Hello my loyal readers, I'm sososososososososo sorry (I honestly couldn't apologize enough) for going missing in action. I've been so inconceivably busy, you simply could not understand. On average, I probably have been getting three or four hours of sleep a WEEK. Anyone who knows me, however, would tell you that I function like I've slept like a BABY......(those who don't know me, but know my story, they would tell you I'm on hard drugs...sigh, I wish I was).
Anyway, believe it or not, my life has changed SOOOOOOO much since the last time I've posted on here. I usually choose to be discreet when it comes to certain things, but in these next few posts, I'm prepared to lay everything out on the table. I've kept things to myself for way too long and personally feel like my blog is a good outlet for my thoughts and feelings. I don't necessarily care if people read it because I know I'm not the only person out there who finds themselves in situations like this.
And so the stories begin:
Scratch that, I remember the years between third and fifth grade when I was on some serious ish.
Pushing 789604 pounds, looking like a walking mini fridge fully stocked.
That could float in swimming pools and wore whatever clothes fit.
............................................................
Why does that sound alot like me now?
Anyway, I'm normally a good dieter. I work out 3-4 times a week, eat plenty of fruits and veggies, log all my food in a journal, etc etc. Lately, however, I've been seriously procrasinating. With a goal that seems far near impossible, I contemplate why dieting is so hard. I wish that no matter what I ate, it would have some sort of slimming effect. Brownies, for example, why can't I have you? It's like the forbidden fruit, chocolatey and all. No one will ever understand the ache I experience in my chest every time I drive past a McDonald's and can't go to the drive thru and order a McChicken with medium fries and a Mocha McFrappe. I just have to keep my eyes on the road and imagine how happy I'll be after I lose X amount of weight. Trust me, thoughts of me eating fries drenched in ketchup try to overrun my skinny mini dreams, BUT, I push myself.
Being the cupcake I naturally am, I despise exercise. Just the thought of sweating and bruising and soreness deters me from even getting out of bed at 9 in the morning. Some people say "Oh, I love working out, it makes me feel so good. It gives me a high I've never experienced" blah, blah, BLAH. No, not me. Working out makes me feel closer to death than type 2 diabetes would EVER make me feel and the only high I wish I was feeling was hard drugs like, crack, rather than being on an elliptical. I know there are other ways to work out and burn calories, but the old fashioned way seems to be the only regimen that truly produces results. I did the Insanity DVDs....for two days. They were the hardest workouts I ever put my poor body through and my body made sure to avenge itself from my torture by being sore for the next few weeks. I just can't win when it comes to working out. I don't care what anyone says, it's never about physical strength; it's all about your mental state. I know when things are going downhill and that I'll never make it through a workout once I start hallucinating. All of a sudden, the girl doing crutches on screen turns into a brownie with powered sugar on top. Then I pause the DVD and do my best high knees into the kitchen and into the snack cabinet.
Eating healthy doesn't even SOUND fun. There is nothing fun about lettuce. I've never heard someone say "Oh yeah, I throwing a party, who's bringing the lettuce?!" No, lettuce is the ugly stepsister who never has her happy ending. When dieting, I opt for the Mean Green Smoothies, which consist of spinach, kale, and any fruits that will mask the taste of the kale (spinach is tasteless). It usually works out for a couple of weeks, until I start running out of ideas or spinach. There's only so many Mean Banana Bean Green Smoothies you can take until you're reaching for the Jimmy Dean's Sausage Biscuits in the freezer. I only have a few weeks left until school starts and my mother has made it obvious that she isn't buying new uniforms if the ones I already have don't fit. On that note, the sad cupcake girl chronicles continue. If anyone would like to donate to the Desh-too-tight-uniform foundation, be my guest.
