Looking Good

I am currently staring down at my Texas-sized gut and wondering why I just ate eleven plates of sushi.

Ug. This whole 'eating less/healthier/running' thing is not working out as well as I planned.

Oh well. Next week I'll start my new healthy lifestyle. This week, I've got enough on my plate (no pun intended). I just got about twenty forms in the mail that I have to fill out, describing my work injury from three weeks ago (I have an awesome scar now!). I just spotted three overdue-bill-type envelopes that I am too scared to even open. Plus, I am sitting in my kitchen in between piles of mail and just looked over at my Beta Fish and I am scared that him floating at the top of the bowl without movement might just mean the worst.

In happier news, I have been working lots this week, which means money. My evenings have been filled with such wonderful activities such as dancing at karaoke bars, stuffing my pie hole with food (see above description of sushi intake), and getting drunk at the movie theater. PS. "Your Highness," best movie ever. So funny that I accidentally dumped an entire airplane bottle of Jim Beam on my lap.

Speaking of bright futures, I was at QFC the other day, picking up my prescription before running off to shove food into aforementioned pie hole. I noticed a rare 'sample table' near the pharmacy and stopped by to grab a freebie. It was some sort of soy/protein/gluten-free/organic/vegan diet drink thing. As I was trying a sip of it (tasted like SlimFast on a diet, and the lable said "LOOKING GOOD!'), the old QFC lady handing out the samples started talking to me. Not about the product she was shakily pouring into little Dixie cups, but about her life. Ug, really depressing. Next thing I know, the little grey-haired lady has whipped out a copy of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" (Yes, really.) and it reading me passages about late-in-life changes of heart and how so-and-so was seventy-two when she wrote some Broadway musical and how she could totally do that ("I'm only sixty-three!"). And the whole time I'm standing there wondering how many bottles of "LOOKING GOOD PROTEIN DRINK" I have to buy to get away.

I buy three. I drink them at work, and they make me have this unbelievable gas bubble in my stomach that makes me walk around the restaurant with a hand resting on my gut because my intestines hurt so much. I get a few soft looks from the clientele and I realized that I look like I'm about four months knocked up. Great. LOOKING GOOD.