It is so nice to feel skinny & sexy again! I know it’s hard to jump on the gym train and shelling out $30+ a month doesn’t always sound worth it, but I’d say that $30+ is worth ever bit of the good I feel today! (Ask me again in a few hours after Easter dinner.)
Oh, what a feeling. To wear a tight shirt on Easter with no fear of what that Dr. Pepper soaked ham will bring.
I couldn’t be more content than if I were spitting rose peddles into a pot of gold.
Sometimes I log into my Tumblr to fill my text box with moments of Deja Vu, vent about nothing at all or comment of my weight loss progress and yet here I am yearning to write something - anything really - and I cannot. You know why? Shit’s cake. Somewhere along the road of life, I came to a fork. Left gave you the shits of life and right was, well, right - right?!
I’m not asking for a ball of flame to bust through my door and present me with grief to write about - I’ve actually had enough of that, thank you very much. It’s just for the first time in a long time - GASP - I have nothing to say and I could literally ramble on about how peachy my world is. And It’s Monday. Right, I know! I am healthy, I love my job, I gotta’ good man, family and friends are well…
— But who wants to read about that??
For a while, life was always dramatic. If it wasn’t school or work then it was boys or friends. Maybe I’ve reached the point in my life where some crap just isn’t worth the fight, spat, conversation or trouble. I have a couple things that if I could push the green light on and wave a magic wand, I would, but I have no wand, I lack the magic and I gots no balls to push the green light — therefore, I wait. BUT. ENOUGH. OF. THE. UNKNOWN.
I guess I should think of a way to redirect my blog and thoughts if life is going to continue going so smoothly cause seriously, who wants to read Cinderella’s diary? Psh. No one. I think we’d all like to get down on what the Queen of Hearts is thinking.
And there it is. All I’ve got. If only the cloud would part and the sun would shine.
Oh, lord. I think I’ve just aged.
Is 27 the point of adulting?
