Brusheff

Tell-Tale Signs

You can tell she's mad when she blares slipknot or marilyn manson on full blast.
You can tell she's upset when she starts munching on chocolates.
You can tell she's sad when cookies & cream ice-cream becomes her b'fast, lunch & dinner.

"Who is she?" You might ponder.

Why, it is i of course, your very own noble sinner.

And yes, i am sinning badly now. Very very bad. With food.

Quote from Mr.DM, "If food were drugs, i'd OD for sure."

Hmph. I'm getting there. Won't be too long before i start crash-dieting again so i can fit into my size 6 pants that boasted every curve a lady could possibly possess.

OK so i'm over-reacting, no doubt about that. But how can i not when everything is going too friggin fast for me, topped off with a hell load of crap going on. So not only am i enduring the loudness of the clock ticking right before my very eardrums, but it's also ticking at a pace so rapid that even the clock itself couldn't keep up with time.

Makes sense? No? Good.

Because that's the way things are going on at the mo - nonsense.

It's funny, not ironic, but just plain funny, how us beings are blessed with the capacity to caress and gifted with the ability to think. Yet, these two very simple fundamentals are often muddled-up. In other words, most would think with their heart and not their brain. Hence, the result is more often than not, futile.

Bear with me. When the time is right, all will be revealed.

In the meantime, *cough! cough!* will NS survive through this ordeal? Will the weapons of emotion destruction get the better of her?

Stay tuned to find out.

Oh barf