I Spent The Day Trying To Undo The Work I'd Done
I headed to the gym and worked out. It was, kind of, quiet, but the boy's were hot. I only glanced up a few times, too much to concentrate. Mostly, I remember little black shorts, hugging something sexy. But that's it, vague images. Gym's serious work, mate. I can't be hanging off machines with my singlet pulled down over one shoulder maki ng eyes, no, that's not the sort of gym work I prescribe to.
It's one of the reasons I had to stop working out with Nick... he's incorrigible.
I walked up Lygon Street and did my shopping. I bought baby oil just in case I see Matthew again. I gotta admit there was a guy at the gym who reminded me of him, who I kept making eye contact with, quite unintentionally.
Then I spent the rest of the day trying to undo the work I'd done by eating everything in sight. Don't know why, I'm not normally like that, but I just craved every piece of shit known to man. A muffin, a Cherry Ripe, a kebab, flavoured milk and fish and chips for dinner. Er! Makes me queasy now just thinking about it.
I read for the rest of the day, in between eating that is, wiping the crumbs from my mouth and hiding the wrappers, flicking the crumbs off my fingers before I turned each page.
The fan whirred next to me. The couch was soft. I drifted away into another world. Eventually, I just let myself dose off what else are Sundays for, I ask you?
It's one of the reasons I had to stop working out with Nick... he's incorrigible.
I walked up Lygon Street and did my shopping. I bought baby oil just in case I see Matthew again. I gotta admit there was a guy at the gym who reminded me of him, who I kept making eye contact with, quite unintentionally.
Then I spent the rest of the day trying to undo the work I'd done by eating everything in sight. Don't know why, I'm not normally like that, but I just craved every piece of shit known to man. A muffin, a Cherry Ripe, a kebab, flavoured milk and fish and chips for dinner. Er! Makes me queasy now just thinking about it.
I read for the rest of the day, in between eating that is, wiping the crumbs from my mouth and hiding the wrappers, flicking the crumbs off my fingers before I turned each page.
The fan whirred next to me. The couch was soft. I drifted away into another world. Eventually, I just let myself dose off what else are Sundays for, I ask you?
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