Fat Days

Today is a fat day. One of those days where nothing I put on feels good or looks good. I've put on my fat pants, my fat shirt, my fat skirt and all for NOTHING! Gah. Why do we have to have fat days? And why, pray tell, when we have fat days does it seem that the only thing that feels good is to eat Oreos and watch movies? I think it's a conspiracy. There's some infinite thought thread in the universe that latches on to me when I wake up in a fat day and insidiously drives my every desire toward Doritos, chocolate chip cookies, and milkshakes. That and heiniously sad chick-flick movies that make me cry, which, odly enough, is twice as likely on a fat day.

I'm going back to bed.