When I was younger (around two years ago) I used to be sexy like Spock. I had these rock-like abs and legs that would make any woman dissolve in the acidity of her envy. That was before I started my career as a sometimes productive corporate monkey…
Now I’m only half as hot and totally unfit. The other day I took on the bold task of giving Mojo a bath. Not entirely the most genius of ideas, but I was getting bored of watching cartoons at 8:30 in the morning. Boy, was I in for a surprise. Not only did I spend +1 hour running after the little guy, but I did it with the gusto only an Olympic champion should possess.
Oh the pain… the sheer agony.
The next morning I woke up with the most excruciatingly sore thighs. I must have torn some muscle tissue. Not to mention the fact that I have to make myself pretty for work and wear these high pointy heels (because I’m a small person and small people need help) and walk around in them. So there I am, traipsing around like an old person, trying to look cool when all I really want to do is find a semi-shaded spot to wallow in my self neglect.
That is when it dawned on me, I’m becoming one of those deluded people I despise so much. I have pretensia [An illness whereby the infected person pretends that things are a certain way, when in fact, they are not]. This blog is a written promise to myself to never get fat like Britney, because she too was hot once and now she’s just ‘meh’. I can’t be ‘meh’. Its not like I have buckets of sparkling personality to sustain me. One day, all this sarcastic venom that I spit out will lose its attractiveness. I need to have something else to fall back on. I need to be superficial for once (haha).
I need to *sniffle* give up chocolate.
I hereby solemnly swear that from the very moment this blog is viewable by public, I shall be a good girl and eat rabbit food (even though it tastes like cardboard). In addition, I shall come up with (and stick to) a regular exercise routine.
I am not destined to be a fat lady with a million cats.