Wherein You Realize I am a Crazy Person
Dear Diary,
I am sad and awake at 5:30 and lonely and feeling like a failure and it makes me want to eat. Instead I came here because I thought if I wrote about wanting to go to the Whataburger (which is like TWO BLOCKS AWAY) and get a burger, and fries, and a non-diet coke (the last two whatever the Whataburger equivalent of "super sized" is) and a big gooey cinnamon roll and eat them all while sitting in my car feeling sorry for myself (because then the wrappers stay where no one will see them so I'm less humiliated by the whole affair)....
I lost track of that sentence. Okay, I thought if I came here and told you INSTEAD of doing that then maybe one of you would ask me at some point, "So, did you go to Whataburger?" and knowing that might happen might keep me from going. Is it more embarrassing to eat the food and lie about it? Probably.
Sooo anyway. This is uncomfortable.
So...did you go to Whataburger?