(Author would just like to state from the get-go that she has no real idea what sorts of responses would be appropriate, she just feels the need to blather.)
I’ve come to the conclusion that all of the problems I have are incurable. For instance:
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I’m overweight. It isn’t because I overeat, it isn’t because I only eat junk food, it’s just the way it is. I don’t want to be overweight, but all anyone can tell me is that I’d have to change my eating habits. Um, ok. I guess that means I can now lose weight by scarfing down chips and Snicker bars and eating my weight in Christmas goodies, right?
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I’m a smoker. I don’t feel the need to smoke just because I’m stressed out or something traumatic has just happened. I don’t smoke because of some mysterious psychological attachment to holding a cigarette or blowing smoke at someone. I just…smoke. I want to quit, because I don’t like to stink, and I’m tired of having a sore throat in the mornings, and I’m not entirely big on the idea of dying of cancer or emphysema. Basically though, nothing can help me quit smoking because the only part of smoking that I’m addicted to is just the act itself. I could be smoking tea leaves, as far as I’m concerned, as long as it comes in a pack and tastes good with a cup of coffee.
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I bite my fingernails. They don’t taste good, especially after having held numerous cigarettes throughout the day. I certainly don’t like the way it makes my hands look, raggedy nails and a quarter inch of fingertip above them. Yet sometimes, I get them so short, they bleed and hurt for days. Tried painting them…I just chew the polish off. Tried painting them with that nasty-tasting-stop-nail-biting stuff. Pshaw. I have a mission to accomplish! Save for a few things, there is no taste disgusting enough to make me keep my fingers out of my mouth.
So, one unfortunate circumstance and two bad habits. Otherwise, I’m all good with being me.
“Wednesday the 15th - Chris made one of her rare good points today.”
Guanolad