All right.  I did it.  I joined a gym.  

My body hurts just thinking about it.  Ugh.  Exercise.  I hate working out.  But, I can't eat myself thin... so a-working out I will go.  

Specifically, I joined the Y.  A classmate of mine was already a member and convinced me to join which is great.  One, I'll feel bad if I flake on her so I HAVE to go or I'll be consumed with guilt.  Two, she's not gonna let me slack.  She's not super fit or anything, but she was one of those dramatic transformations and so she knows what it feels like to feel what I feel like (does that make sense?).  I already had my first workout yesterday and I. Am. So. Stiff!  Hot damn, I hate this so flipping much.  Tomorrow I'll be super sore.  But homegirl has deemed tomorrow workout day and so I must go. 

I was good on the food front for the most part.  Breakfast was bad.  I had a bacon and egg sandwich on an onion bagel and a salted caramel hot chocolate.  So damn delicious.  So damn bad.  For lunch, I had Taco Bus.  Which sounds bad, but isn't.  I had a taco, and for those that had have actual tacos (not from Taco Bell) you know that it's essentially a salad on a tortilla.  And I only had one.  So there.  Dinner was like half a small bowl of couscous.  I'M STARVING.  

This is some kind of torture I've imposed on myself and it's the worst thing ever.  

Screw this crap.  I'm gonna go get a Snickers bar.

I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  And tonight, I'm gonna sneak into his room and watch him sleep.