Friday Confessions.

What, wait. How is it Friday? I was just…Oh. Right. I DID go to belly dancing last night. That makes it Friday today. Where was the rest of the week? I must have been here for it, but it sure went fast.

That brings me to this week’s first confession. I feel like there should be more time. I’m going along, I’m living my life, but shouldn’t there be more time? Time to see friends, time to make phone calls, time to relax and enjoy life. And I don’t even work as much as normal people do!

The other thing is a body thing. You know how there’s a big movement to feel more comfortable with our bodies, more relaxed with the lumps and bumps and whatnot? Well, last night at belly dancing, I just looked in the mirror and I thought, “I’m fat”. F-A-T, fat. Not ‘Hey, good hips,” or “you’d better figure out those arms,” but “God, I am so fat. I’m repulsive.” And I don’t really want to go onto that diet cycle thing wherein I learn that I don’t lose the weight, because I can’t lose the weight. I hate my body from my boobs to my hips, and I don’t even have the willpower to do something about it. Even if I had the willpower for a while, I could not exist in an eternal cycle of splenda and lettuce. I’m resigned to loathing. And I fucking well hate that.

Sorry for the downer. I’m kind of pissed off.

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