11.26.01 :: 9:49 am

OK, it's only half a scone, OK? And the rest is fruit. I swear.

My expanded belly is being given a rest, I promise.

This morning's dream: using pogosticks to smash grapes.

Also. I'm not sure if this is my eternal punnishment for being a drunk/slut/bad seed, but I'm giving his ex one last get-out-of-jail-free card before I lose my shit and rearrange her face.

The last time I smacked someone, I was in the fourth grade. Gym class. V.V. made her 573rd crack about my non-english-speaking, cab-driving father, and (no lie) my hand got possessed. I hit her so hard she slammed her head on a locker on her way down to the ground, and I bruised my knuckles.

Forgive me, but it felt very good.

And I may have been forced to see a therapist for a month and half, but it was totally fucking worth it.

I'm only saying this because check it out, I'm waaaaaay bigger than I was at ten.

Over to less athletic news, I worked myself to the bone Saturday and Sunday nights, and still have not paid off my spending spree at Ikea.

You win some, you lose some.

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