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Thursday, Apr. 22, 2004 - 10:00 p.m.
Title, schmitle
So my healthier eating plan is going alright. I've lost a couple of pounds .. not much though, because I keep fucking up on weekends when I'm away from home. Time to stop that.I've noticed that while I can eat an entire tube of Pringles while sitting and watching TV, I can't even finish a proper meal at the dinner table. I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm actually paying attention to what I'm putting in my mouth, whereas in front of the TV I'm fairly robotic. Chip go in mouth. Lara chew chip. Yum yum yum. Lara want more. I finally ran at my running class on Monday. The first two weeks I just stayed for the talking portion of the class because I wasn't well enough the first two weeks. Oh man, it was murder. The first two weeks it was a "run for one minute, walk for one minute ... for seven minutes" kind of deal. But this time it was "run for two minutes, walk for one". So yeah ... I didn't do too well. I need practice. I'm starting to think I should've joined the walking class instead. Yes, they actually have a walking class. Of course, I don't think that's the sort of thing I'd want to pay money for. I've been walking for twenty-two years ... I know how it's done. Some guy just called my number asking for Christine. I told him he had the wrong number and he hung up before I even finished the sentence. I fucking hate it when people do that. If you're going to make me jump from my seat, run around in a panic looking for my phone, thinking it's my boyfriend, the least you could do is say "oops, sorry" or something to that effect. Jesus, people are fucking rude. Next time someone does that I'm going to call them back and tell them to get some fucking manners. Except I won't say the "fucking" part. Or maybe I will, because that would be nice and ironic.
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