Day 27 of Singledom

I am sitting here in my workout clothes trying to think of anything more important to do...dishes washed, check, laundry done, check, toilet scrubbed, check. UGH. Whoever said working out was fun is a liar. It is not fun it is torture. Why can't we eat everything we want and not feel or look like a marshmallow?

Which brings me to my latest wonder of how pathetic should I feel when my one toothed, half a head of hair covered in 5day old piss clothed pysch patient has "a couple" boyfriends and I don't even have one? Now, you know you have walked through a store or been outside and seen a couple holding hands that was just, to nicely put it, off or not very attractive. Or the cashier at the grocery store wearing this smile on her face right below the huge wart on her upper lip and mustache that screams "Look at my huge ring and how happy I am SUCKER!". And you wonder, What gives? They look so happy and clueless and how can you get that way? Do we put too much pressure on ourselves to make ourselves attractive when other people have it right and worry only about the inside? And I understand in the case of my patient her men weren't exactly quality but she thought so, isn't that all that matters?

Whatever the reason is I still feel the need to bypass the cheesecake in the fridge and grudgingly hit the treadmill. You don't see personality from across the room.