Talk about neglect. I found my blog crying in the corner this morning and when I went to touch it, it growled and snapped at me. I haven’t been busy, but I haven’t been idle either. I feel like I’m in a transition stage in my life, even though I can’t tell what I’m transitioning to. Or from, to be honest. Time is passing kind of rapidly. Two weeks from today, I will be across the pond. I’m anxious to get away. Monotony is probably the most tiring thing about my days, my job. Gym visits are going to be 5 days a week now. The best motivation really is disgust sprinkled with a little self-hatred.
(45 minutes later)… I’m a bit hungry. If only I had a whole hour for lunch so I could haul ass down Mt. Vernon and get a plump falafel. I’m talking J. Byrne-snatch phatness. With hots. The sandwich, not the vagina.