A series of unexpected events.

You guys, it isn’t even Tuesday and I am already done with this week.

1. I can’t stop eating. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with my appetite, but every moment I’m not shoveling food in my face feels like a moment lost. If I don’t slow my roll I am going to undo every bit of good work I’ve done since December.
   
   I’m also having a hard time getting back into the gym. I’m trying to tell myself that I really just need to get through the first two weeks of eating well and exercising and then it’ll be routine, but it’s like I’m back to square one where every minute is a struggle. And I’m craving the weirdest shit – like, Gatorade and Sour Patch Kids and Entenmann’s baked goods – that is miles outside of what usually interests me, and what’s worse is that I want them all by the bucketful (the Entenmann’s stuff in particular… dear god, the things I’d do to a box of their choc-chip cookies does not bear description).
   
   
   
2. We got snow. Again. I really can’t with this. I beg of you, Boston, no màs.
   
   
   
3. In the last 24 hours, I have been dumped by not one, but two people I wasn’t formally dating. Well, I’m exaggerating slightly, but only slightly: as of now things are off with both The Chef and The Lawyer. The Chef had a big snotty cry all over me yesterday because her ex wants her back and she doesn’t know what to do. They were together for 5+ years and split more than a year ago; I’ve never got a clear picture of the details but I do know that the break-up was seriously bad, and I have the distinct impression that the ex dicked her over something fierce. I don’t know how long they’ve been back in touch, but I think at least the please-come-back is very recent, because The Chef is not very good at keeping things under wraps and would not have been able to go on very long without telling me.
   
   I reacted much as you might expect: I gave my opinion (essentially ‘don’t be a moron, moron’), let her sob, and then told her to leave my house and only call me when she’s sorted her shit out but don’t expect me to be waiting around in the meantime – and by the way, next time she wants to drop something like this, she shouldn’t let me pay for brunch immediately beforehand. Fucker.
   
   I don’t know. If she turns the ex down and wants to give it another go with me, I’m not sure what I’ll say: to my list of major concerns we can now add ‘still not really over her last relationship, apparently’, and that’s not small potatoes. But to her credit she was honest to an extent she didn’t necessarily have to be, given the nebulousness of our relationship, and I also really feel for the girl. She’s hurting bad and really doesn’t know what to do – I suspect she’s desperate to trust the ex again and give it another shot but also really doesn’t trust her at all, so doesn’t know what to make of it. (I also suspect that the ex has managed to run some guilt-inducing ‘but don’t you believe people can change?’ line on her, which is gross, and no, for the record, I don’t.)
   
   And in case any of you is wondering, yes, this was as sudden as it seems, and no, no one saw it coming.
   
   As to The Lawyer, she has merely had an attack of the guilts, exacerbated by having received some fairly head-fucking news from her own ex this morning. It’s fair enough and probably for the best but coming on the heels of yesterday has me feeling even more kicked around. That will pass and we’ll recalibrate, and I knew it would only be a short-lived thing anyway, but I just didn’t want to give it up at this particular moment. On the other hand, the risk of using her as a prop to make myself feel better and ending up hurt in the process is huge, I recognise that, so it really is the best thing. She’s the emotional equivalent of a box of Entenmann’s choc-chip cookies: utterly delicious and addictive, but once the sugar high wears off there’s nothing but regret and bloating to show for it. Whereas The Chef was more like a fresh, healthy tomato salad that turned out to be laced with salmonella. Fuck, even the sane ones I pick are a mess.
   

Anyway. I’m sure this will all pass quickly enough. In the meantime, I have a week to get through. Back to it, I guess.

XOXO