I can’t eat. I don’t know why. It might be the birth control pills, or the uppers from the other night, or my stupid heart. My weight has dipped vaguely in only the way it can on a curvy five foot three girl. Rather than enjoy my somewhat flatter stomach, I feel sick. Last night I sat down for all-you-can-eat tacos and half-heartedly ate three. When the fourth was served I ran outside for air. I returned to down more margarita before running to the bathroom to unsuccessfully gag. I have a lunch date today. I might need to make it a liquid lunch. Or I might need to hurl, and I have too much going on at work to spend any time scratching on the bathroom tiles. Decisions decisions.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth