bookmark_borderI’m bad

A few days ago I had a hard day at work and at one point when I had a little break in the (non-stop PR) action I craved a smoke. So I went to the washroom and washed my hands. Then I washed them again.

After my OCD episode, I threw the paper towel on the floor (instead of in the garbage can because I’m still a bad girl.

Since I am now a non-smoking bad girl I need new ways to express my badass-ness.

I have also stopped rinsing the pop cans before putting them in the recycling bin.

Next I’ll stop holding the door behind me for the next person.

Oh yeah, I’m bad and I don’t care.

bookmark_borderAre they happy?

I’ve been a little hard to deal with lately — I quit smoking, walk 4.8 kilometres (about 3 miles) everyday and eat a lot more fruit and vegetables than I thought possible.

Smell me and pass the kale!

In this personal journey towards self-actualization (I have also taken to speaking in a New Agey way) I have discovered a new personal truth — this new healthy living kinda sucks a little. Not a lot. A little. But enough to qualify as sucking.

Yeah, people who tell you otherwise are lying. Those green-tea-drinking, yoga-bending, meditating and most likely non-meat-eating people may all be pink and shiny inside but are they happy?

They say they are. Maybe they really are. They sure seem happy.

I don’t think I have joined their ranks yet. I am not any more happy than I ever was and I miss poutine, smokes and sitting on my ass.

At least I still have the booze.