Had a dream about my best-friend-in-high-school-who-dumped-me. Again. GAWD! That was kid stuff! Twenty-fucking-years ago. When the hell is my subconscious going to get over it? I'm definitely going to the class reunion (if I'm invited--hah), if only to face these stupid demons for once and for all. At least in this dream, she and I were hanging around, as opposed to the usual dream where she treats me like crap. I suppose that's progress.
I do this to myself every stinkin's semester: I'm behind. Behind on two watercolors (ack!), one of them a highly-detailed interior. I just never developed a sense of urgency for deadlines.
I abruptly stopped going to the gym, after going religiously for so long and actually starting to get a hardbody, and now I'm getting squidgy again. Haven't gotten larger, just squidgier. I was all worred about my butt hanging out of the back of my bathting suit, well shit, now there's nothing to worry about -- it does. And my pot-belly is back, the one I sport despite never having had children.
I have to give that presentation today and wouldn't you know it, I have a big zit. So right now I've slathered on some clay mask, which is usually fairly soothing. I'll let you know how the presentation goes; I know you're waiting with baited breath.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 9:57 AM
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