11:15 p.m

Hoooooooooly crap, I was going to spazz at work today. I hate it, I hate it. I hate it even more every time I realize it's not a real job 'cause it's a FAMILY business owned by MY FAMILY and so therefore I'm surrounded by FAMILY or MY MOM all FREAKING DAY LONG. So yeah, it sucked. I was going all psycho every time somebody walked in the door, you know, that blank-eyed 'I'm going to kill you' kind of way. You know that siren song in Kill Bill whenever Uma Thurman saw someone she was about to kill? That's what went through my head.

Anyway, tomorrow is the weigh-in. As I mentionned earlier, my track-keeping totally went to shit on day four. I really hope I didn't gain weight. If I did, I'm going to fucking cry man, seriously.

I hate being fat. I know this is going to sound totally juvenile (well, everything I say sounds pretty goddamn juvenile actually), but I totally blame my parents for my being overweight. Seriously, this is a breakthrough for me 'cause WHO'S been feeding me all these years? My parents. THAT'S right. I'll leave it to whoever's reading this to figure out whether I'm really serious about this.

Also, a note to whoever manages to stumble across this page: I know this thing is opened to the World Wide Web and it's naive of me to think that NOBODY will EVER EVER read this...but I've decided to remove the comment section so that I can at least have the ILLUSION of privacy. And, frankly, I really don't care for your comments because if I wanted an outside opinion on my ramblings, I'd go see a shrink. Now if that sounds hostile, well, all I can say is....

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Wait for it...
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BITE MY BIG FAT ASS.


Signed,

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