I’m having some issues with two of my best friends/worst enemies this week.
You guys know them; have heard me talk about them before.
I love them when they first come over but they always overstay their welcome.
They are both sweet, beautiful, oh - they’re totally rich and ummm…delicious?
I had to take the boys with me to Trader Joe’s – that’s how Cookie Butter made her way back into my cart and my house and the CostCo sized jar of Nutella was a gift “for the boys” from my mother-in-law. Thanks a lot.
Having these two bitches sitting side by side all innocent and cute in my kitchen cupboard is like an alcoholic having a freezer full of vodka. I have a freezer full of vodka, but thankfully that doesn’t seem to be a problem for me.
So after the family goes to bed it’s time for me to go and visit with my buddies, and well, you know.
I want them out of here. And duh, I’m not going to throw them away.
Now they didn't totally leave the next day, but let’s just say there was much less of them to love.
I wake up with a food hangover, a rock in my puffy gut and a hatred toward these store bought items that have totally dicked me over.
This morning I put this on under my clothes:
Yes, it is as sexy and comfortable as you would imagine.
This garment is like a modern version of an old-timey corset. It’s like so tight I put on extra deodorant knowing I’ll be sweating bullets. It also forces me to sit up really straight, have awesome posture and makes my boobs look even bigger so hey, everyone enjoy that.
I know I have issues that I need to work on revolving around food. I also know that these issues have been with me since like, birth and will probably never go away. It’s just sometimes; I wish it could all be more normal.
I wish I could have a “candy drawer” in my house. How the hell do people manage that?
These must be the same people who sometimes are so busy they “forget to eat.”
I wish I could own a box of Oreos and eat two after dinner and be done with it.
I wish I could have ‘effing Cookie Butter and Nutella on my shelves, to spread on a piece of toast and say, “that was great I’m completely satisfied.” But unless we get some degrading lock or alarm on the cupboards, I just don’t think I can handle it.
I know this isn’t my usual bubble gum post but it’s just where I am right now.
I promise next week I’ll go back to writing about lip gloss or some bad eighties outfit.
But for today, here I am...doing the walk of shame home after a night of partying with some old friends who are a bad influence on me.