Believe me, it's a long way down

Welp.

I just bullshitted my way through a paper analyzing and contrasting scholarly versus popular pieces for academic pursuits. I wrote four pages in two hours. Less than, because I dicked around for quite some time, relishing in the soft, loving embrace of the internet.

I'm now having a bowl of cereal and listening to Cyndi Lauper, because I'm a god damn adult. I need to learn to eat better. Here's what I've eaten today: A bowl of Special K and Rice Milk for breakfast; two scrambled eggs, a small chicken and apple sausage, and a small cup of yogurt for lunch; some beef jerky and a protein cookie (they exist, they are healthy, and they are fucking AMAZING) after the gym, and now my second bowl of Special K and Rice Milk. My trainer said that I need to be consuming 2100 calories a day if I'm going to be burning 500 calories at the gym (which is what I've been doing every day), and I can't bring myself to do it. It's hard. I just want to fluff up my caloric intake with...like...macaroni and cheese all day. Because that sounds dreamy.

Allen is going to the gym with me. We've been playing basketball together, and I am seriously the whitest white girl to ever be a white girl with a basketball in her hands. It's even more obvious that I'm a white girl when the ball leaves my hands. I jump, and generally land with one leg kicked behind me. Allen has been teasing me about it, so I've taken to doing cartwheels and handsprings around him, because he can't do them. But we've been working out for at least an hour and a half every day, sometimes two hours.

I'm doing my best to get my shit together. I can't seem to stop being a piece of shit about doing my homework when it's assigned, because waiting until the last possible moment is far more fun (did I say fun? I meant aggravating). This isn't really true. I do snippets of my homework, but it's been so hard for me to concentrate the last few days. Especially with all of this 'staying the fuck out of my house' nonsense I've been pulling.

My house is a disaster right now. I've spent almost all of my free time at home over the last few days tearing everything apart so I can get rid of shit and put it back together. My room is done. I got rid of a lot of stuff, and my room now looks like an adult with a weird sense of humor, and an extreme preference for her own art lives in it. I folded up my futon into a couch, and now I sleep on it that way. It's comfortable.

I have lost the energy to keep rambling. I want to go to bed now.