I am a Carb-in Based Life Form

Remember how I’m fat?  Yeah… I guess I forgot and didn’t diet and exercise and I got fatter.  So that sucks.

I started the Atkins diet last Wednesday.  I need to lose weight STAT, get as much weight off of me by my 30th Birthday in April, and kick my addiction to sweets.  These reasons made me choose this diet.  I’ve had success on it before.  I can’t be trusted with Weight Watchers at this point in my life because I will eat garbage food.  I like bad food!  Goddamn do I like candy, cake and I like fast food.  I’m the only asshole who likes fast food, even though I feel like I ate a ball of diarrhea wrapped in concrete afterwards.

6 Days in and I’m down 10 pounds.  Suck it, fat!  I’m not going to lie and say it’s been the easiest thing.  I’m a fucking sugar addict and went through detox the first three days.  If that’s just what happens from SUGAR it makes me never want to try crack or heroin, even though they will undoubtedly make me super skinny, right?  At the end of the first day, I laid down in bed kind of early for myself.  I didn’t even have the TV on, or the lights out.  I just laid there on my side looking sad.  My boyfriend came in and asked me what was wrong and I just said I don’t know… I feel sad all over.  I was mourning my carbs.

Day two, I had no energy.  I literally laid around all day long and accomplished nothing besides feeding and watering myself.  I would have normally quit, but I realized that I had to make a choice:  either eat what I want forever and be fat and only happy in small bursts like when I have candy, or suck it up and change my eating habits and lose weight to finally be happier with myself and feel better in the long run.  I’m gonna be goddamn 30 years old, I’ve had too many years of hating myself because of my weight.  And I’m not just going to accept myself the way I am, because the way I am does NOT make me feel good.  The way I am will put me on the track to getting diabetes in years to come, having joint problems, and who knows, I could die young.  Lord knows my Dad was way too young to die, and his health problems were 100% preventable.  I’m not dying at fucking 42 like he did.  Know what else I don’t wanna be?  One of those fat Americans that is going to be the norm, scooting around on a Rascal because they’re just too much of a fat globule to even bother to walk.  Not me, fuckers.

Anyways, that got kind of deep there.  Day three came and I had more energy, less depression but I wanted to fight someone.  My asshole neighbor though, who I’ve told before on two different occasions to turn down his gat damn rap music had it pumping yet again.  I had to go over to the main office to pick up a package, and I said to myself while walking there that if I was the only person they were helping in the office, I’d lodge a real complaint.  If someone else was there, I wouldn’t bother them.  Since someone else walked in the door at the same time as me, that was my sign.  At home though, I didn’t want to have another confrontation with this guy… I just had a bad feeling about it, so I left a note on their door.

If I have to ask you one more time to turn down your music, I am taking my complaints to management instead of dealing with you.

Succinct and not that bitchy, yes?  It gets better.  The people who live there… I’ve seen a woman, a child, and the person who answers the door the two times that I’ve asked to turn it down is a man, in the middle of the afternoon.  After I heard the music stop, and their door open and him leave, I looked out the window to see which car he got into.  I then noticed his car did NOT have a resident parking sticker.  Maybe he doesn’t even live here and just squats at his baby-mama’s house during the afternoons?  I don’t know.  Maybe though I’ll talk to the woman of the house one day and let her know what her man’s up to and that he could be compromising her continued habitation in this apartment complex.

My next line of action will be to forge a letter on my complex’s letterhead telling them to cut the shit, that the next offense will result in a fine, and the one after that will end in eviction.  Who knows if I’m kidding about that.  Maybe not so extreme, but it seems like a good idea, forgery and all.

What I’m trying to say is that not having carbs gives me a chance to focus on what is important in life:  formulating elaborate revenge plans.

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