I did a lot of hidden eating yesterday: stuff I didn't report. I don't know why I report this stuff. It does help a little bit. If I feel I've had a big carb-o-rific day I can cut back a little bit the next. Last night, I was starving. I was in the kitchen, standing over the frozen cookie dough with a spoon thinking, "This isn't good...this isn't good..." Sister was at home making home made pasta.
No running today. God, I just can't get my ass in gear in the mornings. Not even for a half-hour run. Good thing I don't belong to a regular gym. I'd never go. Yeah, I think it's just walking or running for me. I must remember that: I can always go for a walk.
Sometimes I get so down on myself for all the stuff I don't get accomplished. WTF is wrong with me. I never do all the things I want to do when I'm running around the track. I'm always thinking about all the stuff I should do and then I come home and never do them. I end up just trolling recipe websites because I'm obsessed with food now that I'm in starvation mode. Like I said, I finally understand starlets and their hell. Maybe I should take up smoking and adderall.
At ten thirty, I'm meeting friend and we're going to have lunch. Then, we're going to walk around her neighborhood until she has some big shin dig with friends or old co-workers at the Heartland Brewery at the Empire State Building. I'm going to head north and see other friend at two o'clock.
I have to finish the power book by Saturday because someone has requested it. I wonder if I can do that. Last night, I just looked a recipe websites. There are some things I can and feel like making and some that I don't. A lot of pasta recipes. Yes, pasta is easy but it's really like just eating sugar. I have to remember that. I might as well just eat cookies. I should be eating beans. Pasta is special occasion. Not every day. I should be eating beans and salad every day. I should be eating avocado, boiled eggs, salad, beans, and pearled barley. I like all those things. Why can't I be happy. I should have fully non-processed food days. Two rations of everything.
Oh, I give up. I just don't have it in me today. I'm sad because the New York Times is disappearing behind a pay wall tomorrow. One more vestige I'll never see again. Why must life be so difficult? Why must I fail at every attempt at masonry?