The good thing about NaBloPoMoFo is that it gets a lazy blogger like me into the discipline of writing every day.
The bad thing about NaBloPoMoFo is that some days, I have nothing even slightly interesting to write.
And I am trying like hell not to make this blog a big old whine fest about me and my poor weight struggle, wah wah wah. Who the fuck wants to read that shit? Not me.
Here’s the deal with me and my damn weight: I am fucked up in a lot of ways. I clearly have serious coping issues, depression and anxiety so I turn to food for comfort. I also use food to celebrate every event, no matter how mundane. Food represents everything good to me.
Did my mommy not love me enough? She certainly did not. She was a bitter mean old wench, truth be told. What does that have to do with me being fat? Logically, not a bloody thing.
I just have emotional issues and they manifest themselves in my eating habits. Add in the fact that I LOVE food and wine and it just gets worse. Even the love of a wonderful man doesn’t help me conquer the demons taunt me.
So what am I going to do about it? Clearly, it appears that I am going to whine like a bitch on this blog until I get my fat ass up off this chair and exercise. I am going to bleat on and on about how tortured I am until I find a way to deal with my emotions that doesn’t involve a 1,000 calorie Starbucks cup of liquid sugar or a double cheeseburger with triple bacon.
And what does any of that really mean? In far more important news, it completely sucks that a nice lady like Anissa Mayhew, who is loved by many and I totally admire and was looking forward to meeting one day is fighting to survive a shitty medical malady.
Life’s a fucking bitch sometimes and just doesn’t make a whole helluva lot of sense.
That’s all I have for today.
