So I've got a j*b and it's light but constant manual labour. Pros: lifting and carrying stuff for 12 hours a day might help my case of noodle arms. Cons: i almost passed out just now. Good thing nobody rly cares about when i take my breaks. Saved me the embarrassment
I have two wolves inside me. One wants to starve. The other is trying to work out how to do that without it fucking up my routine blood tests. Both wolves are fatasses
I've been doing "good" these last.. a long time now. But there's this constant wordless chatter in my head urging me to become the worst version of myself. And when i indulge, i feel like my old self again. And oh, how i have missed it
i ate 3 hours ago, why do i still feel so disgustingly full? it wasn’t even that bad earlier, i enjoyed eating it all. why do i hate it when it's too late to do anything about it?