Yes, I am the baguette with my salad. French bread makes my life worth living, so fuck the apple and multigrain shit. I might even put butter on it, so there. I got my ass up. I got the kids and myself out of the house pretty close to on time. I lugged the kids to child watch, went through the guilt inducing process of peeling them from my calves and running for the door while they scream my ultimate betrayal at my fleeing back. On to the spinning bike I go to sweat for an hour while I gasp trying to reach the desired resistance and rpm (neither of which I did actually reach.) So it did not help my tension level. And so lunch where I want French bread and butter with my salad. Fuck. stupid fucking weight. I just suck at everything no matter how hard I try. It’s that kind of a day.
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