Pass the Endorphins please!

I just started my "Project You!" Video series recently in order to better myself physically (which for me is a big deal cause I hardly ever take the time to invest in myself). I did the lower body work out ab/legs and the cardio. The cardio wasn't that bad. I liked it actually. Got the old heart rate up...but the fucking lower ab and legs...fucking aye...I don't think I've ever felt my ass unless I get that tingly sensation you get after something falls asleep. I feel good. I can't be discouraged. I feel good. I feel I accomplished something for myself today. I'm satisfied. I wanna quit smoking so bad and I think that's one of my strongest vices right now. There is still a semi whole pack back in my apt calling my name as we speak. I'm sure I will give in although to test my resolve, I shouldn't. I have the devil and angel on my shoulders battling it out to see who gets the better of me.

And fuck alcohol in the ass. That is probably something that I have more problem with doing than anything. Not that I'm a big ole alkie. Its just that I have no desire to drink. The "fun" of it has lost it's shiney and no longer captivates my interest. For any reason what so ever. I used to strive to be social and the one that "isn't ruining everyone else's good time". I can be a happy drunk. And Yeah I have had many a good time doing it. But being here in D.C. under these circumstances. Its so not worth it. I have a bajillion reasons not to drink. I think the up most being my mother is drinking herself to death as we speak. I promised the little girl I used to be I would never become her. I have yet to drink by myself, let alone make it a regular thing. But living with my room mate and his antics just don't cut it for me anymore. Sunday when I was at my lowest emotionally he suggested I go out with him and drink the night away. The fact that he even suggested sparked a new resolve in how much that fucking isn't me and how I fucking dilute myself about how much a more put together person he is. He literally dragged me out the door cause he felt it was what I "needed". *rolls eyes* Who the fuck needs alcohol? Needless to say he learned his lesson and it made my case in point of why the fuck I didn't want to do it in the first place. Such is life.

Eating....I think I've eatin a total of 5 handfuls of goldfish crackers. Drank 2 cokes, a ton of water, a cripsy chicken salad from BK, like 10 fries, 4 starbursts and a half a lemon chicken sandwich since sunday. Oh wait...I had a cupful of beef fried rice and I MADE myself do that. Now that's not healthy eating by any means. I'm just not as hungry as I used to be. I feel my tummy but it doesn't "hurt" and food doesn't interest me. If I had the money I'd actually try to do something about it but as it is...I'm poorer than a mutha fucka. I can't even afford ramen. Such is life.

I'm just doing my best to get a job asap so i don't have to rely on stupid roomate for money. (which we would have things to fucking eat if he didn't spend all of MY money and his this fucking weekend to drink) I hate him for that. Hate hate hate him. Such is life. He's moving out next month. I can't stand to live with him cause he has that whole machismo thing going on. But whatever.

Can I just say I fucking HATE D.C. WEATHER! HEAT is one thing...but the fucking humidity! Maheo give me a break!

ick.