sorry I’m still fairly incommunicado. if my phone rings, I’ll answer it, but that’s pretty much where my socializing ends these days. sorry if I’m not responding to your emails. I respond in my head; can’t you hear it?
I’m okay, but I’m resisting the tumble back into the pit. I’ve graduated from walking on the treadmill to running, something I never thought I’d do again in the absense of an attacker. I did yoga this morning. I took a shower and at some point plan to put on makeup. the shower kind of wiped me out, though…
likely the one problem with being multiorgasmic is not knowing when to stop. I mean, if you don’t have to, should you? apparently so because my fingers are totally pruney and I had to lie down due to heart palpitations. well that and to stretch out the butt in my jeans. I’m down half a size and wearing the jeans that didn’t fit three weeks ago. they’re still a smidge snug. the only reason I’m wearing them, well two, is (one) because I can, and (two) so that when I go to the movies later (alone) I’ll be able to resist the candy and popcorn. there’s only room for me in here.
my skins all bumpy from hormones, which pisses me off to no end. I mean aside from nice shoes, that was most of what I had going for me. I can’t just cover it up with makeup because I don’t have that kind, only the eye/lip kind of stuff. I wouldn’t know how to put it on anyway.
I can’t decide whether to see the secret window or starsky and hutch. I guess I could see them both.