Finally the perfect combination

As the abdominal girth slowly shrinks — or so the people around me insists — I am gradually making peace with my low rise acid wash skinnies that two months ago, I would have refused to wear with anything less than large, roomy shirts.

Massive muffin top.

Speaking of carbs, I was sent on a muffin search this afternoon. While standing in La Boheme, the incredulously dark and moist looking chocolate chip muffins glared at me for a good minute. But because today was a good day — I had dragged my insomnia stricken self across the pavement before 6.30am, with music pumping extra loud because a storm was brewing and running to Pink’s stupid song So What, which goes slow and steady then with an infectious tempo increase at the chorus — imagine jogging at a steady pace and having to nearly sprint when the chorus comes on, and then slowing down again, and speeding up again — I very nearly threw up when the song ended.

So you see, it was a very good day. And being in a shop full of warm pastries was hardly a test of willpower. Just today.

And just for today, I was extremely tolerant of his prying. He was asking for every fucking detail and I don’t know where I found the strength to answer 99% of them patiently.

Me: He said… And so I said…

Him: So what did he say to that?

Me: He said…

Him: And you said?

Me: I said…

Him: And what did he say?

Me: He said… So I replied… And he said…

Him: And what did you say?

I am very thankful that it was only a short coversation that I had to relay. And then there was more, but that’s the gist of it. The whole Q&A style. But I’m not complaining. Does it sound like I am? No one I know cares about the details pertaining to my day.

He does.