Coffee Coffee Coffee

Remember how, like, before the wedding when i was like starving myself and stuff, i was all,
"After this wedding is over i'm going to eat all kinds of carbs and get super fat and LOOOOOOOOVE IT." ??????????????????
Former Leah to present Leah: "Sucker"

I am now on an all coffee diet. (Could that give me an ulcer?) Benefit is that my brain runs so fast now sofastsofast that i can hardly stop to think about the upcoming grad-school-application deadline and in extension the directionless mess which is my life.

Downside is that when you go into starbucks and order TWO Venti Soy Lattes, and then you put six packets of equal into both of them, and then you TRY both of them to make sure they're sweet enough, everyone in the place totally knows that you're a crazy addict and not simply doing a favor for a co-worker.

The guy who usually makes my drinks was taking orders this morning, and when he saw me he held up two fingers like in a peace sign and said, "Two?" He is totally hip to my illness.


nice things


just, you know, fyi.

i don't say enough nice things on this blog. I thought that getting an actual therapist might help with that, so that i could say all my mean things in private, but unfortunately it didn't. She only pissed me off more, accusing me of not listening to my body and working out too much, when i should be like watching my breathing and saying OM and crap. I'm sorry lady, we can't all be fat lazy hippies.

Dan says that i've spent so much of my life in therapy i should be able to give MYSELF therapy sessions. Unfortunately, i am ALREADY boored of hearing myself think... why would i want to hear myself talk? Outloud? To no-one? Sounds Queer.

PS: Sounds Queer should be the name of a new-wave boy band. You know, if we ever get a new new-wave