i've only been 33 for five days and i'm tired of it already. as of late, i have become extremely conscious of my weight. i've gone up a size in pants and it has really been bugging me. haven't been able to get to the gym as much due to parental duties at home. 30 minutes at the gym downstairs at work isn't enough. abs and ass need serious work. post-halloween candy binges at the office haven't been helping matters, i'm sure. downright counteractive, really, but this place is stressful without halfway trying to be.

(i sound like a girl, don't i?)

everybody's got a vice. the one habit, quirk, something or other that they know they need to learn to live without, but everytime you turn around, you're right back in the thick of it. it has its tendrils in you and it will not let go.

we all have it. what's yours? you don't have to tell me, because i'm not about to tell you mine. just own up to the fact that you have one.

there's too much in me that i'm ashamed of. thirty-three and a customer service rep...that's nothing to be proud of. i tend to quickly change the subject when asked about my job. if i'm still doing this at 35, suicide has to be justifiable.

(not like this should have has to be explained, but i wouldn't off myself. i'm just saying that as far as i'm concerned, avoidance of such a pitiful existence is justifiable by taking oneself out. God doesn't see it the same way, of course, so it looks like i'm stuck here until he sends for me. and then there's family, namely beth and simone. and that's not "stuck", that's solace. three more minutes and i can go home to them...)