Well. Despite my previous entry, the night before I left myself, I see that I had the good sense to threaten my family over a slice of half-melted triple chocolate pie.
I actually keep a small fridge in my room that no one is allowed to access without permission. This is necessary to prevent starvation from living amongst huge mastodons with ravenous appetites. Simply labeling my food wasn’t enough. Buying my own fridge meant business, as they can no longer claim ignorance that something wasn’t fair game.
Damn if that wasn’t some good pie. I’ll stay off the scale for a bit though. Everything good in this world comes at a cost, it seems.
Well, it seems I’m slowly seeping back into myself, like a guilty teenager silently and carefully crawling back into her bedroom window at some ungodly hour, hoping no one noticed her absence.
Ha-ha. If I think I can get away with leaving myself so easily, I have another think coming. My wrath is not pretty.
Sincerely,
Semi-quasi-kinda-sorta more Me than earlier.
PS: I wonder if the Pope drinks green beer on St. Pat’s when nobody’s looking.
