Monday, December 12, 2005

Dearest,


I'm sorry I haven't written in a few days. I'm torn between frantically finishing my last few papers before the semester ends next week and procrastinating the same. Eleven days and it will all be over. I'm taking the night off from work to celebrate which for me will probably mean lunch out with mom and a movie and then home watching Buffy and playing Sims. Hey, to each their own, right? I have my paper on Hemmingway due tomorrow (I'm so not a fan), and then a paper on Dr. Zhivago and one on Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain. I haven't read either.

I don't really have much to say today, but I have been thinking of you. I've been formulating my plan for how I will lose weight. I'm going to go organic - grains, raw veggies, etc. I'm looking into different exercise programs. I'm definitely going to get back into yoga, I like how it makes me feel. I'm thinking of some form of kickboxing for the cardio. I don't like thinking this way, but a part of me has always believed I wouldn't meet you until I lost weight. I'm not trying to say that I think you would be one of the masses to whom I am invisible, just that it's important for me to be myself. This just isn't me. I'm trying to make my outsides match my insides and become the woman I used to be, physically. The bad things are out of my life, the good things I'm working on step by step. Bachelor's degree, health, writing, etc.

I suppose I should get back to Hemmingway now. I'll write more as time allows.

I am, as ever,
yours.

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