Today is Jan. 23rd, 2011, 8:00 p.m., that time of night on a Sunday when I reflect on what I did this weekend, what I didn't do, and what I should've done instead.
Last night I laid my sansa fuze to rest after some ridiculous malfunction that I undoubtedly made worse. I also purchased a new mp3 player, some phillips something or other, 8 gigs. This time I was smart and bought a 3 year warranty.
We had burgers for dinner tonight, homemade ground beef ones, with cheese and everything else that belongs on a murdered cow between a bun. It wasn't healthy. And then there was chili cheese dip in celebration of a Bears game that didn't go well.
I layed on/in my bed for about 14 hours today. That's terrible. Playing games, sleeping, being lazy.
I look at myself in the mirror and I see chub. I see tiny eyes drowning in a round furry face stamped with a small, fake smile. I move my mouth and see cheeks blob up and down, weighing my words and smiles. I see deep pores, crammed with dirt, dry unhealthy skin. I look down at my hands, chubby chin protesting (also furry) and frown at my sausage fingers. I feel my belly pushed against the desk as I type this evening blog. I look back in the mirror, take it all in and wonder what the hell is wrong with me? To be in this physical state for so many years and not do anything about it?
I'm too embarassed to continue.
