I Ran To Work On An Empty Stomach And It Was Shit.
I ran to work today. It was a fucking pain in the hole. I didnt eat before the run so I felt sick all the way down.
I was running so slowly that I was actually at war with the fast walkers again. Old men on their way out for a Cornish Pasty for breakfast. You know the type. Hungry for pastries and news on Brexit.
I can’t bring myself to eat in the mornings. When I start eating it doesn’t stop. Even when I’m in bed I get up and go to the shop. Usually at 3am. When the crackheads are stomping around Tottenham talking to God through their Nokia brick telephones.
I regret not updating this blog properly over the last few years. It was full on car crash material for a while. Probably still is. I spent last night listening to the song ‘Chorus’ by Erasure on repeat . The line ‘and the fishes in the sea go to sleep’ somehow makes me feel very sad. Why? I don’t know. They have fish in Holborn Studios. There is one big fish I walk past on a daily basis and I make faces at it and it reciprocates.
I am gonna dedicate February to progress.
My aim is to record a calorific deficit for every day of the month. I am sick of taking 2 steps forward and 1.8 steps back. I am moving forward overall but it’s happening so slowly and I’m doing it whilst cradling my tits and crying. Hold me.
I am going to the Hague for my birthday this weekend. I am facing war crimes for my book. I’m staying in a hotel that was frequented by Jacques Chirac so I’m hoping the place is full of snails and hookers.
I accidentally had Tiramisu last night. It has alcohol in it. So I had to get up and throw the Tiramisu away and bought a packet of Cheestrings instead. I’ve changed so much as a human cunt over the last while.
I’m going to dedicate the weekend to relaxing and running.
I like the Netherlands. I like places where I’m the same height as a medium sized lady.