Operation Mini-Skirt: I don't know. After my weekend of gluttony, I was afraid to get on the scale this morning.
Mental State: Consumed with guilt and ill-feeling.
You know you're not behaving as you should when two things happen:
A. You can't face the consequences of your actions, even in the privacy of your own bedroom.
B. You start worrying about the opinions of all your dead relatives, because you just know they're all converged on the same cloud, looking down over you, ruffling their angel wings and clicking their tongues in disapproval.
I'm obviously losing my mind.
* * *
I'm playing with a new idea lately. I've got this maggot in my head about my own behaviour of late, and whether it fits in with the moral fibre I've got entrenched somewhere deep inside of me. I don't know whether I'm upholding my own values, you know? I don't even know if they're MY values, or something I just picked up along the way of growing up in a pretty morally sound household. I don't know what I want to do, whether the decisions I'm making are just signs of deviant behaviour that can be called thus because it's just not true to who I am OR if it's behaviour that shouldn't be classified as deviant (for me) because it's who I really want to become.
Note: Perhaps deviant is too strong a word. Does a plain and simple different suffice? Perhaps...
Does any of that make sense?
I didn't think so either.
I do notice one thing, though. I'm always debating the wisdom of a decision during a time when I've abandoned the discipline needed to perform Op:M-S. I don't know if that's a coincidence or if there's a link between one and the other... Maybe it's the circumstances that should be noted instead...?
Right. Too much thinking. Head starting to hurt...
Cheerio, darlings. Must sit and admire my shoes or something...
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