Working is like a double-edged sword for me because I'm like the antithesis of a morning person.
It's not difficult to get up or even get dressed. I use engaging music on blast to get me going -- this morning began with Extinguished (because it literally has not left my stereo in the months since I bought it) and The Love Below. I actually danced out the door to "Roses." But once I get outside, forget it.
In case it hasn't been established, I kinda hate people. (I exaggerate, natch, but it's easy to hate people in a city crammed with them.) The combination of hating them and hating being up before noon fuels me with a bit of quietly homicidal rage. I had to resist smacking with my bag the guy sitting next to me on the E taking up two spaces because he had to spread his legs so wide. I wanted to scream at him: "Like your dick is really that big, you bastard!Move the fuck over so I don't have to get crushed!"
Also killing my mood is the crash diet I'm on. After glancing at the picture of myself from Monday's fun, I'm obsessed with losing some weight. My thighs are fucking massive. Of course, it's no problem to anyone but me, but that's not the issue at hand. For lunch, I plan to have a shake and an orange. I'm guaranteed to go red vision mach 4 rage by 5pm. With that said, don't you just wish you'll end up on my train later?
Posted by Candicissima at March 3, 2004 11:34 AM