Nov. 29th, 2007

vicarz: (Fat cell (from giantmicrobes.com))

We had a serious fight and it started to affect my workout. She got mad at me when I went out of town, which I think is uncalled for as there is no need to be jealous of family. My third had nothing but good things to say about me and how I appeared, but my moody main bitch was unforgiving. I suspected she had her own issues she was dealing with, or rather failing to deal with, which she was taking out on me - but foolishly I gave her opinions weight as I always do. I responded to her abuse, took her advice, and engaged in some less than healthy practices. I had to admit some of what I was doing was irresponsible - I was drinking too much (or too often), restaurants cost a lot, and candy is not a meal. Granted.

It kind of came to a head last night - I went to my conditioning class and felt very energetic at the start. The group of new very-fit people was motivating - my energy levels were off the chart and I went full-force. I was doing great until we switched over to mitt work, and as we slowed down I thought I was going to pass out. I had to sit down and duck my head down until the dizzy went away. After class she and I had a serious talk - she started with her lies again (though I note she was consistent with those lies, meaning I can't really trust her, ever). However, halfway through our discussion it was like she was speaking another language - in fact she was, for the reading had switched to kilograms. I fiddled with her underneath, and got her to read in lbs again - and suddenly I was at my target weight. Great - she's mad at me and broken until I stroke her backside...can anyone else see why this is problematic in a relationship based on trust? We had some make-up sex, and then hit the sack. I checked in with my third; the mirror was still kind to me. This AM she told me I'm still at my target weight - but can I really trust her now? Seriously, I'm not body dismorphic - I just have an unreliable scale.

vicarz: (Default)

(new stolen icon)
Another reason I'm going to hell:
We have disabled people on contract to clean our building (hence government workers complaining about dirty bathrooms, trash cans, and hallways all the time). One fellow is hearing impaired, but has been trained to make audible noises in attempts to communicate orally to others. When he does, he emits loud high-pitched noises which closely resemble a rooster in shock. Another comparison would be the "monster" in Young Frankenstein.

This fellow is one of the people who (allegedly) cleans the bathrooms. Now, you have to knock on the opposite sex's bathroom before entering to ensure no one is there. He does, which is a little bizarre because of course if someone answers - he can't hear the response. But that's not why I'm going to hell.

I'm going to hell because every time he clucks like a chicken, I quietly respond "Puttin on the Ritz!"

Profile

vicarz: (Default)
vicarz

May 2018

S M T W T F S
   1234 5
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated May. 28th, 2025 05:34 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios