There's snow out there! Just a little, but it's cold, white, powdery...snow.
Is it TIME for this yet?
Wow.
I just wanted to bury that latest, depressing entry.
Snow!
Read on if you want.
I am sitting here after eating too much at dinner, then having part of my son's brownie and then having my own LARGE brownie. I hate the way I look and I hate the way I feel. I hate the way I look and feel when I watch myself at hip hop. My stomach feels like it's three times its normal size.
I haven't had new clothes in years. I haven't had second hand clothes in about a year, season wise. My favorite pair of jeans is ripped so bad in the butt, and another pair ripped in the knees in a not so fashionable Abercrombie sort of way. (Yes, I hate Abercrombie, it was put there for a reference). A couple of my other pairs are too tight. I look awful, and I have nothing cute to wear. The season of buying is here, but I can't buy new jeans. I just can't, not with Christmas.
I hate the way I know life isn't ever EVER going to get better for anyone I know. We're all going to keep toiling along at this miserable existence. Nothing good will come. Oh sure, good things happen to us, and at least we're not refugees, yeah. But this unhappiness we all have? The dissatisfaction? Never going to change. We all hate ourselves and none of us will ever like ourselves. We will all live and work hating what we do, and who we are will eventually become hard, sad fascimiles of the original. We will accomplish nothing.
Our children are relegated to the same fate. They're happy and cute now, but soon enough, they will turn into the bitter creatures that we are, and that our parents were before us.
The winter approaches, and with it, my dread.
Why are boogers so enticing? Why, if I see my child with a booger, can I not let it go? Or have them discreetly take care of it with a tissue? No. Nay. I must attack the boogage. I want to get it myself. Ewww! Yucky, yet irresistable.
I am certifiably insane.