Ann-fucking-Margret. Am I right or am I right.
I ate everything that wasn't pinned down today, but I managed to not murder my co-worker (although I imagined him dying in many creative ways, and felt no remorse, not even a smidge of remorse about my remorselessness), which was a pretty fair deal really, as I'm almost certain I won't be able to get my hands on macarons or a food processor with which to make half-decent pesto when I'm in prison for the rest of my life for ridding the planet of Fucknuckles McGee. But perhaps if he's dead and gone I won't be so hungry any more and I'll have no need of macarons OR pesto. You know, it's this kind of moral dilemma that prevents me from sleeping or parenting effectively. The world is a confusing place.
Anyway. That's all that happened. I worked. I ate. I didn't kill anyone. (SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN, F.McG, AND SEE YOU TOMORROW FOR ANOTHER TRULY EXCELLENT CO-WORKING EXPERIENCE.) But shit man. Perhaps I should try kicking sugar again. This is getting seriously fucking ridiculous. I'm crazy and ravenous all the time, like I'm deficient in some serious brain-stem lubricating minerals, or I'm a sugar junkie selling my arse and my sanity for a fix. I think when I stopped drinking that part of my brain that was an alcoholic just hopped on over to the next best thing and I became a rampaging sweet-tooth. Maybe if I quit sugar the addictive part of my brain will turn me into an exercise junkie! HAHAHAHAHA!!!
No seriously. That could happen, right? Right? Dammit.
If you manage to figure out a way to kick the sugar addiction, lemme know.
ReplyDeleteMy exercise addiction is BFF's with a morphine addiction. They have a grand ol' time separating my tendons from the bones.
-_-
Remorse is for sissies. And they never find cyanide in an autopsy unless they specifically look for it.
xoxo