Interrupted

My Life Thus Far
2008-07-21 15:30:55 (UTC)

Ball of Discontent

Sometimes when I stumble across "diet" diaries written by
these girls who desperately want to look like the
celebrity de jour (regardless of the toll it takes on
their minds and bodies), I just want to give them a nice
cyber-strangling. Maybe it's irritating me more because
I'm in a weight-loss frame of mind. I just can't help but
wonder why they don't get it. Starving is not the way. I
tried that and all it leads to is hunger, frustration and
ultimately failure. No matter how successful it may be at
first. I've tried to share with a few of them the best way
to lose weight (cutting of calories, but nothing lower
than 1000 and just a little exercise), but they all want
to look like Angelina Jolie (pre-twins) by next Tuesday.
They all need to be slapped. Just like I did when I was
doing it. They eat a piece of lettuce and wonder why they
gained a pound from it. BECAUSE YOUR BODY IS STARVING,
STUPID! But they don't see that. Instead they "fast" (the
posh new term for the diet soda/diet pill diet) and
celebrate the small victory of losing 0.6th of a pound in
3 hours (not an exaggeration). It angers me. Which in turn
angers me more, because I'm not sure why I even care. Let
the dumb-asses starve, then binge, back and forth, on an
endless roller coaster. It's their lives. But, I can't.
It's another evolution towards the kinder gentler me I
want to become. Caring about others. How scary.

I've woken up very cynical this morning. I'm not in a very
good mood at all. I'm not sure why and I'm not sure what I
should do to fix it. I'm still very tired. Even though
Keenan slept 5 hours straight, I didn't fall asleep right
away and ended up only getting 3 hours of sleep. I've got
a headache because of it. All I want to do is crawl back
in bed. Not happening, but a girl can dream.

Kiki is frustrating the hell out of me. I don't care what
the child psychiatrists say. Every time she hides in a
corner and pees herself or sneaks downstairs to get a dry
pair of panties (after spending half an hour on the potty
with no success and giving me lip about not having to go)
I want to tear her ass up. I don't, but that's what I WANT
to do. It's 8am and already she's gone through 3 pairs of
underwear. I don't understand what's wrong with her. She's
fighting Jason and I tooth and nail about using the damn
toilet. Anyone capable of changing their own diaper has no
business wearing one. So, today she's sitting on the potty
for as long as it takes if it means I have to duct tape
her to it.

I'm just one big ball of discontent. I don't even want to
be around myself right now. I feel sorry for anyone that
crosses my path today.




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