I’m 32 years old and still feel like a kid.
Until a few months ago, I ate macaroni and cheese and frozen pizza at least two nights a week but I gave it up in favor of a self-imposed low-sodium diet. It’s a pain in the ass, but I’ve lost eight pounds so I guess it’s working.
I wish everything in my house could be pink, and will wear really uncomfortable shoes if they make my legs look good. There is no excuse for not wearing lipstick.
I have this idea that I could be a better person if I tried, but trying is really hard. It doesn’t mean I won’t make the attempt, but it does mean that I never exercise on Mondays because that’s Gossip Girl night. Chuck Bass, how do I love thee? *sigh*
I was able to sell my house and get out of Arkansas. I’m back in California, living in Folsom. I have no job and no prospects, but am planning to go back to school at Sac State in the fall and try to get a Masters in English (yeah, that’s useful).
I’m trying to motivate myself to write a novel (already written two…why not a third?) and living life with a husband and a dream.