I've been doing well with my love affair of cheese. I have cut it ALL out except for mozzarella and cream. My DANDR said at least I could romance THAT branch of the cheese family tree. Mmmmmmm cheese.

My scale said 185 this morning. I blinked twice to be sure. Why am I not thrilled? You'd think I'd be flippin cartwheels. I'm not and that makes me sad. Maybe because I don't believe it, although it is right there under my feet. I'm a psychopath.
I am going to measure tonight. I haven't done that in awhile. Maybe something THERE will make me happy.

So I decide to take off work early to go have brakes put on my car. Schweet! Off work at 3! Hooya! I get there and wait. The dude comes to talk / flirt with me. Ugh... flattered, but uncomfortable and wanting him to just focus on my car and get me OUT of here. Geesh. SO.... $184 bucks later I squeak outta there. Thrilled to be free 3 freakin hours later. Zip zip zoom zoom blink blink. Flashing lights behind me. Freakin' cop. I IMMEDIATELY bust out in a sweat. I don't have my cellphone, don't know ANYONE'S number AND I have a warrant for a past ticket. At this time, REM's "So.Central Rain" is blaring from my cd player and all I can focus on is Michael Stipe singing "I'm sorry.... I'm sorry..." Boy am I sorry. Crapzilla.
He gave me a ticket for not COMPLETELY stopping at a stop sign and let me go WHEW. New brakes & apparently I don't know how to use them.

I then head to Krogers to get some groceries. Jack Sprat is outta lunch stuff. $71 bucks later and my dinner of a Slim Jim lost in a bag, I land in the car. Mad. Madder. SUPER MAD. Then feeling again....... Sorry. NOTHING I can eat sits in the backseat except for my MIA Slim Jim. Bacon, eggs and cheese is what I get for $71 and STILL not a stove to cook them on. I start thinking how bad this seems to suck. I chug down my THIRD energy drink and head home, desperately trying to keep from chewing on the steering wheel.

I make it home, unload my meager edibles and decide I need to ask Sprat if he is truly happy. Happy with me and our life. He texts me back something stupid & silly which puts me in a MORE agitated state so I sit outside, smoke and pout. Three things I do best. I then decided my house was a dump and NOTHING would ever get done and I might as well be a three legged dog with an insaitable itch AND in a wheelchair and I could get stuff done quicker. I went in the dump, err, uhh, house and pondered for something to eat. The Slim Jim only lived 3.2 seconds and I still needed something to eat. I cut 2oz of Mozzarella cheese and sucked that down in record time as well. Isn't there a cash prize for that?

I sat on the couch, being the BEST Pouty Patty I could (which is Oscar worthy, btw) and here he came. Blew my doors off and cracked the foundation. The Sugar Monster was in my house and he was NOT happy. I proceeded to eat a cherry cheese dainish and a half a glass of milk. The ENTIRE time I thought of you guys. Seriously. But Sorry a$$ me, I betrayed you all and ate the entire thing. I told myself that this was the ONLY thing I could and would have so I had better enjoy it. Instead of inhaling, I savored it and took about 10 mins. I felt guilty and wanted to go throw it up, but I hate throwing up. Que Mr. Stipe......

I justified it with spending $184 on brakes that STILL squeak, getting ANOTHER ticket that will cost me time AND money, spending my last bit of money (til payday) on stuff that I can't EVEN eat AND living in a dump. Now I was broke, dumpy AND hungry and STILL don't have a way to cook what I can eat. Oh yeah... and I ONLY drank 8 measley ounces of water the entire day and was convinced Sprat was gonna pack up and leave me. This time not only was I thinking "I'm sorry..... I'm sorry".... I was feeling sorry too. Damn Michael Stipe.

See Bella, you ain't alone sistah.

I turned to food. Again.

Back full force today. I let it go and said, "Well.... it could have been worse." Even though today I went to McDonalds and got a cheeseburger (munus the bun) and THEN realized I am not to have cheese. Grrrr... ugh.

So....... what can I say? I am a human being. I will recover and do better today. I've already gotten down 32oz of water and not a illegal carb has hit my lips. It's a beautiful day outside AND I didn't get arrested yesterday. The squeaky brakes will quit when they wear down to fit my bad rotors so I'll just ride the brake everywhere Sprat was curled up asleep beside me when I woke up and the stove is coming on Saturday. Now if I can just find an electrician

Things get better and life goes on. Michael Stipe can say "I'm sorry..... I'm sorry" all he wants, but for me, that cd is coming out!

Much love you guys. Y'all really do mean alot to me. Y'all are like my high school clique and I love you all!!!

Muah!