the navel times and observer

So a couple days ago I walked my front door and was confronted by a fantastic surprise: air conditioning!

For the last couple weeks I've been sweltering in here through some miserable miserably June days without a choice over whether to pop on the fan and get some fresh air in here. Yeah, that sucks. Or sucked.

It felt good. And I think there's more than one person around here who wonders what kind of freak I am because I literally left my apartment at least once the other day almost singing because of how glad I was that I could finally relax without sweating.

Which is good, because despite working out nearly every day in the damn gym I'm still fucking enormous. I've got folds of fat thicker than dictionaries and I think my spare tire went flat months ago and just started flapping over my belt.

I need to get out of this place, out of this entire state of mind, I've always lacked self confidence and easily got down on myself. I just need to get out. Hell the gym may be the doorway out of this miserable mindset, but that's a looong way out.