What can't I get through my thick head?
Men+Kim=bag o'suck.
Kim+Yoga+Running+CalorieCounting+focusing on career=bag o'cute puppies.
My track record don't lie folks, so before y'all start thinking this is a "do these jeans make me look fat" not-so-veiled plea for a ego-confidence boost, go back and check your work.
I am a great friend, baker, sibling, daughter, and I will push down my bubbling acid reflux of self-deprecation and even say a great actor, but what I am NNNNOTTT, never have been, prolly never will be, is a great dater. I think I know why, too. I am so muthafucking focused on either avoiding any possible instance of being uncool or hurting their feelings, so, as any RomCom will show you, I fail on both points, every time.
It's raining here in Silver Spring, I'm at my office gig, pre-menstrual and my knee hurts. Naturally all I want to do is go and get deeerrunk and flirt with some bartender till he starts Jersey-pourin', but instead, I log in the banana I just consumed on my on-line calorie-counter (This one RULES it), take a big gulp of water and inhale reality, exhale woulda-coulda-shoulda, and let the day run it's course.
