this is a picture of me taken at my wedding venue, on the day of my wedding.

See the flat tummy and buxom other-things? that’s how I want to look now. I doubt i would fit into my wedding dress if i tried. it was barely 4 years ago (3 years, 11 months and change) but my body has changed a lot since then. I went down 40 or more pounds when i was sick, and the ONLY thing i regret was gaining all this weight back. Ok that’s bullshit, i regret a lot more than that…but this is the most shallow thing i regret, ok?

I think about my weight a lot, but i can’t seem to find the motivation to go to the gym daily/weekly/at fucking all, so why am I whining? Ugh.

On a totally unrelated note:

30,924 words into my manuscript, I am realizing just how clever JK Rowling was to chart out her books ahead of time, because I know baaaaasically what happens next, but not exactly how. I have to kill a character dear to my heart, I have to get everyone else the fuck out of their location, and I have to do it all keeping the unicorn in play. It’s not an easy task. People think that writing is something easy and fun that one simply does; not a process that one embarks on even when the going is terrible and rough. I don’t particularly want to write tonight, but I will.

“Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration, the rest of us just get up and go to work.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft