September 20, 2009
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I think there must be something innately programmed into anyone with a female body that cannot allow satisfaction with one's weight. I look in the mirror and I only weigh 122 pounds, yet I can't stop thinking how disgusting and fat my stomach and hips are. Perhaps it's some kind of neurotic desire to look anorexic without actually being unhealthy. I'm really not sure. My husband walked up to me while I was looking in the mirror and said, "Everyone looks like a fatty when they do that!" because I was pooching out my stomach as far as I could, but when he does it he doesn't look fat. In fact he normally looks like he has no internal organs and when he pushes his tummy out he just looks like his organs suddenly came in.
Regardless, I spent the day doing homework that I had been putting off throughout the week. Normally I don't put off homework, but due to recent events and the evolution of a lot of negative feelings I felt it necessary to give myself a little wanton free time. Admittedly I used that free time to sneak around on people's online profiles considering if anyone could be worthy of being my next object of affection, but it was time well spent and it put me in a better mood at the very least. I also did a lot of soul searching about graduate school and how to rank professors in my final selection paperwork for my research adviser. It's been quite stressful knowing that the choice will basically determine whether the next four to six years are bearable or absolute hell on earth. I'll be so glad when October 5th has come and gone and I know who I'll be working under during my stay here.
This entry is so much less than I intended it to be, but I'm just not in a particularly amazing mood and I don't want to blather on when I'll truncate everything because all I really want to do is loath around on the futon feeling sorry for myself.
Good night internets.
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