Fatty McGee

I made a huge mess in my room. And, in uncanny Marissa fashion, I've failed to finish what I've begun. Go me.

As you can see, my hours are all messed up. The insomnia is back full force. And my little fit the other day hasn't helped. Now not only can I not sleep, it seems its the only thing I want to do. I can barely stand up at times. Which makes it a little difficult at work. Especially since I'm working 30 hours this week.

One of the last biggest mistakes of the past year was when I stopped going to the gym. I've never had trouble with my weight before and I can tell this is going to be a battle I may never win again. I found myself eating an aneroxic lunch today; fruit and water, though I thought I'd add a little of the good stuff...a baguette. It didn't do much good. I ended up going home and eating scalloped potatoes, ham and pineapples, peas, shrimp cocktail and 4, count 'em 4, rolls. Looks like I'm gon' have 4 rolls. Well, I guess now I'll have a reason to be depressed. And soda. I can't live without the stuff. It's too good. (And I can tell you, thats probably half the reason I'm up right now.)

I started packing some of the stuff that was taking up too much room in my room but it still does no good. I know it's there still. Binding me with its materialistic chains. Stuff. Too much stuff. Freaks me out a little.

Maybe I'll have to make a trip to the gym. I know I probably have a week or so left on that membership. $100 seems like a small price to pay to battle the bulge. Though I don't know when I'll find the time between school and work. At least that way I can do my favorite thing, eat, and still fit into my Versace skirt.

But until then, it's looking like I'm hiding behind a red Michaels apron with cheesecake breath.