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I'm NOT ok. Almost everyday this week, Angel texts and asks how I'm doing. I meant to do well. I would get dressed to go work out, then I'd go home and sleep. I also made these trips to Dairy Queen, and the sad thing is, I really don't like Dairy Queen. I don't like dipped cones enough to keep eating them, but I do. I keep eating them, and I hate them and I hate that I don't like myself that much right now.
I don't like Angel either. Tonight she actually wanted details. I used to be able to say, I'm OK... and that would keep her from asking anymore questions. But all of the sudden she wanted to know what days I actually worked out, and how long, and all I could think was OH MY GOD SHE SAW ME EATING A DIPPED CONE IN MY CAR. Then Lorry texted and said she can tell I'm frustrated, and it's OK.
IT'S NOT OK. Um... I've got a big butt AdvoCare sticker telling people to CALL ME if you want to know how to lose weight and gain energy, and right now I'm really just losing my grip and gaining more weight.
I just broke down and told Angel everything, and all she said was, she can't do things for me. I have to do things for myself. And that I knew where she was if I needed to find her. Whatever.
It's just me, myself and I. I can't even trust DaJuana because she took a picture of me eating mini m&ms and sent it to Angel, and she thought it was so. damn. funny. ha. ha.
By the way... I lost weight. I think that's what makes this all so ironic LOL.
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