I'm moderately excited.  I'm about to go through all my belongings again!  I'm again going to get rid of all the nonsense I don't need to have around.  Each time I do this, I get better.  I want to be at the point where it's almost impossible to have a cluttered home.  My home will always be in need of cleaning, due to two pets I promise to brush more often. 

I am outta shape.  I actually wore myself out playing catch with my younger cousin.  Sad.  On the plus side, my food co-op is delivering lots of produce on Tuesday night, so I can finally eat well like I threaten to do. 

A note: this blog will now have lots more pictures of my meals.  Maybe by making a visual record of my food, I can improve my nutrition.  Fear of embarrassment is more effective for me than my own health.  Why do I even eat the garbage I eat?  I know I've asked this 8 million times, and I know the answer is that I've got a tendency toward addiction and I need to stop.  All those nasty chemicals, sugars and cow assholes are not going to give me the beach body that will earn me love and acceptance.


So often I want to get a nursing degree and piss off back to Britain. Maybe I'll just stop eating carbs.