Po Chhim deserves a lot of credit, for being the sassy, humorous, and charismatic girl that she is. Today she said that I receive compliments as if they're Scooby Snacks. I wasn't that receptive to being likened to a lanky, slobbering, bonehead Great Dane (Is that what Scooby is? Or is that Marmaduke?) but she was right on. I mean, read the previous entry. If you say something positive about me, I will pander to you.
It's marvelous thing that for the past months I've been able to say, "I'm happy" or "I love my life" at least once a day, or at least a few times a week. There have been off days, to be sure. There have been days when I've been miserable and depressed and lonely. But they are far outnumbered by the ones where I felt appreciated and fortunate and hopeful and alive. I am also glad that I have things to stress about, because it means I am pursuing something and that I have goals. I like that I am so happy it scares me; that my cowardice or complacency sometimes really only means I do not want to upset the lilting balance of a life that I like.
Do you want to go throw up yet? My positive attitude is sickening.
I took a fat-burner today before I went to the gym. I don't know what it was; it was a horse pill that smelled rancid and I believe one of its functions is to give me extra bursts of energy. Who knows what it's actually for, but it did make me run like a hamster on the treadmill. I could have sworn that later on while I was studying, everything seemed amazingly clear and I was reading twice as fast.
I was taking these about a year ago while I was still living in Los Angeles. I remember coming back from the gym chattering like Joan Rivers on the red carpet. Reyna and Jose said, "We are scared for you."
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 1:23 AM
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