Happy New Year!
Logan and I slept in pretty late. I made us a full breakfast. We lounged around and fooled around until about 3 p.m., then walked to the CN Tower and went up around sunset, which was great. Went to the Andy Warhol exhibit at TIFF afterwards and then went back home.
I made chicken with garlic fries for dinner and we had some beers and the leftovers from last night while watching Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion. I started to get that “I ate too much and feel like a complete fat ass” feeling and I know I shut off a bit. That, plus the A/C breaking was not what I needed.
I hate these body image issues. I feel like a fat cow. I took a cold shower to calm down and cool down and almost made myself throw up, but I didn’t want Logan to hear me. I also don’t want to do that, but I know it will make my stomach feel better. Ugh.
Why can’t I just be fucking skinny? One of those people who can eat whatever they want and feel fine? Fucking Connor eats McDonald’s three times a week and disappears when he turns to the side. I eat a baked chicken breast and need gastric bypass surgery. When I got out of the shower, Logan was asleep. Maybe a blessing in disguise.