Ate bad stuff. Gained weight.
Hate myself. Still, I think, There’s
always tomorrow…
Over the holidays
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Ate bad stuff. Gained weight.
Hate myself. Still, I think, There’s
always tomorrow…
Why bother vowing
change when you’re satisfied with
your lazy-ass self?
So small, it’s got one
airline. Flight almost cancelled,
nearly stranding her.
Once her nest, now a
museum to her old self.
Home is elsewhere.
Shivering at the
airport. Colder than O’Hare.
Turn back, refund flight.
West Coast starting line
pavement our road map we head
east back to our roots.
Wednesday is the new
Monday, Thursday Hump Day, T
GI still Friday.
How apt. A bright snow
white day cleans the slate for our
future perfect selves.
In optimism
we cross the starting line of
the rest of our lives.
Flower covered floats
in a warm SoCal city
I’ll never visit.