I'm only blogging right now to keep myself from eating ice cream.

This is what life has come to. And you know what? That's not even the whole truth. There are two things keeping me from eating ice cream right now: typing this sentence and the fact that I'm not wearing a bra. To go get ice cream requires going into public. To go into public, I need to put on a bra. And no. No, I won't do it.

And so I blog. To keep myself from eating ice cream. So here we are.

Krista, why don't you go eat some goddamn ice cream? you ask. BECAUSE ICE CREAM. You know, it's food. Therefore it's bad for me, seeing as though that's the latest diet trend. All things being bad for me, that is. Don't drink milk, don't eat sugar, don't eat bread, don't eat yogurt, don't eat meat, don't eat cake, DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

Needless to say, I'm still not eating ice cream right now. Peer pressure. Also I was having a fat day. No need to make it worse.

In other news, I finally made the decision, four years later, to move out of my neighborhood. I've lived in this particular apartment for three years because it's cheap, it's close to downtown and lakes and bike paths, and because I hate moving more than anything that I've ever hated in my whole life.

Unfortunately, I'm slowly losing my mind. I work on the other side of town, resulting in 11 miles of bumper-to-bumper traffic each morning and night. My road rage has probably taken years off my life. I've avoided moving across town because downtown Madison is full of lakes! and things! and it's pretty! But my neighborhood is also full of lunatics who drag toilets down the middle of the street and yell obscenities at themselves. I have a new downstairs neighbor who SLAMS EVERY DOOR and talks loudly about gynecological visits while sitting on her patio and who doesn't remember meeting me when she first moved in because she was, and I quote, "so fucking high."

You guys. No.

And so I'm moving. August 1st. It's a beautiful loft apartment with everyday amenities that have been absent from my life for years. Air-conditioning, for example, and a door whose doorknob doesn't regularly fall apart.

So I have two more months to sit and wait and learn more things about my neighbor's Human Papillomavirus. I'll keep you posted.

krittabug