Frustrated.

OK, I really hate posts where all you do is complain, but today I am going to have (yet another) one of those posts. It really doesn't seem like I don't like rambling my-life-sucks posts, but really I don't. So,
I want my blog to look good, I have been talking for a while about this woman who was designing a template for it, but she disappeared from the face of the earth and I am now unable to get a hold of her. Nice.
I feel SO fat. Not fat, out of shape, stretch marked, scarred and disgusting. Let me get graphic for a second, my husband and I haven't (you know) in forever because I think I am so gross. It's pathetic. I want a perfect body, that line always reminds me of that Radiohead song. I love it. I feel like it says everything I am thinking.
I have been looking into Gwyneth Paltrow & Madonna's Personal Trainer Tracey Anderson, and I am thinking I might buy a Dvd from Amazon, because I am a sucker. So I am contemplating on drinking a beer, trying not to think of all the calories I will be ingesting into my thick ass as I sit and write a paper as they scream "Jesus Christ please go exercise you fat idiot". Harsh, I know. That is just what I think about myself right now. I want a slim no fat adorable sexy body, like everyone, but I really want it without thinking about it so much. I don't want to hate myself, I don't want to beat myself down every time I get a chance, I am such a big bully to myself.

Also, I left my Vegan butter and fake hot dogs at Leslie's and even though I am going there on Friday again, I fear they will eat them without realizing they aren't theirs. Ugh. Ugh, OK done.