Oh, man, I have been wrong. I mean really wrong. I'm a little eating machine, I am. I had a completely out of control last couple of days. I have run screaming from any chance of hotness. At least I haven't been drinking the past few days and I still haven't touched a ciggie. So there's a little hope.
I'm going to be an extra this evening in a gallery. A couple of us from work are going- it's a dating show. They are doing a reconstruction about two people who met in a gallery. We play the losers he wasn't attracted to. Hah! That should be fun. I'd better not have to stand in heels for hours just for some lame arse show.
What else? Not much. It's been fairly uneventful since the commish on Friday. Serious- even Sweaty hasn't been at the gym. Oh shit, have I turned into Sweaty's stalker now?
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