I have made over 1,700 posts. That’s a lot.
There have been very few comments, considering. Only 900. These are the ones that I have “approved.” The rest were spam. There were lots of those and these were filtered out. Very few out of my Facebook “friends” actually read what I write on here anymore. Honestly, I stopped giving a shit cuz I realized that those that wanted to read it were still reading. Those that still cared still cared. You stubborn bitches are still there. Dang.
I woke up this morning and saw the temps. 62. I said to myself, “New England is happy about this.” Well, me, I told myself this is the kind of day for my War Gear. Yep, a winter day for me.
The kind of day for a hat and gloves. But no, I put on only a jacket. That was rather dumb considering I’m on the skinny side. I need more than a jacket what to me is cold weather. I was spoiled by our heat wave.
I put on music that reminded me (don’t laugh) of my fat days. This, I call, my “fat music.” I’m not kidding you. I really do call it that. Do other people with eating disorders have fat music? Well, I do. This is my fat music. It doesn’t bother me to listen to it and I don’t believe that listening to it will make me fat. No, I rather like this music.
It’s the music I listened to while I was on Seroquel and I went to the gym and worked out for hours on end and, sadly, could never, ever, lose weight. I do remember that. I remember, sadly, listening to this music and thinking that I was going to work out like crazy….
Anyway, this is the music. My beloved “fat music.” I think everyone has some.
I came home and now have on wool socks and a hat and I feel sick and I have walked and fed Puzzle (she just burped in my face) and I am going to cuddle with her in our sleeping bag for a long time. See you later, assholes.