Saturday Night's Alright for...This.

Saturday. Not sure why I was looking forward to it. The Boyfriend is fucking around on his computer/the only TV in the house for hours on end. Plus I just learned he follows Amanda slutball Bynes on Twitter. I mean so do I, but it's to see half-naked pictures of her. I guess I'm being hypocritical, but I'm pissed off.

Maybe I'm just being a hippo. My psychiatrist put me on some sort of diabetic medicine to offset the ravenous hunger caused by the antidepressants, but I think it's just making me sick. Maybe that's the point. The description literally says to prevent limbs from falling off. I don't think I'm at that point in time yet, but I will be if I keep stuffing whole pints of Ben and Jerry's in my face.

I hate being a fatass. I just hate it. Nothing fits me. Nothing looks good on me. My face looks bizarre and distorted in photos. I looked like a dumpy piece of shit in all my Hawaiian photos, and that was months ago. I can't say I was any happier when I was thinner, but it's true that you don't know what you got til it's gone. I suppose I'll be thinking that when my arm falls off. I hope it's the left one at least.