Sickness.
Or headache.
Actually, I think it is sickness. I ate some sugar. After how long trying to kick it (again)? I’m like a fucking alcoholic, without the support group. I guess I could go to OA (for those of you with no addictions—the “A” is always for “Anonymous” and, in this case, the “O” is for “Overeaters.”) At OA, they do not allow you to have white flour, sugar, and something else… I can’t remember from my foray into getting a support group 10 some-odd years ago.
Fucking tasted good though. And it was nasty fucking chocolate. The kind of chocolate I wouldn’t deign to eat, if I were eating chocolate. But since I’m not, and haven’t been, I ate it and it was de-lish!
Moving on.
Confession.
BF bought me 2 (not so) lovely couches on the weekend. (Mental note: do not forget to give him $$.) Weren’t expensive—1 full-size and 1 loveseat (not matching) for 30 bucks. Not bad. Not bad. But they weren’t v attractive. Actually, they weren’t that bad. But the wrong colors and styles for what I would have in mind.
Why would he purchase couches for me, you might ask. Funny story. My new puppy has been having really good snacks of my $50 sectional and my $0 (yeah, that’s right-free!) comfy couch. So he purchased these new couches. . . and she started in on the ugly one. Ripped off the skirt—or at least what I’m calling the skirt, that bottom part that hides the legs. I looked at it, and was all *&%*!! and $*%&#$!! But then stopped. It looked soo much better. J Seriously, I like the couch now. I’ve ripped off the rest of the skirt—threw it away (no evidence) and now have to decide if I’m going to spill the beans to BF or not.
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