First Law of Motion

We've had debates on here about in which season we get the hungriest.

I think, at least for me... it's a mater of inertia. Newton.

I've been in bed all day feeling sorry for myself about my Visa and thus feel no impulse to move and get any food. It's nothing to do with winter, it's the fact that it's much more appealing to stay wrapped up in the confines of my covers, and conversely, when I'm out and about it's easier to talk myself into eating.

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It doesn't look good on the London front, there's like no way they can process my stupid second application and another $260 in a week and a half, when it took almost two months last time to get a snippy British rejection (yes, I can read your British accent) from the Embassy for something I didn't realize I needed to do. I don't know how I feel.

Somehow skinny feels blah right now, even if I'm not eating. It's no longer vogue that all my jeans literally fall off of me. Today, I went out to get the mail, cinched a belt over some pants to get them to stay on, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I swear I looked like my gaunt lanky boyfriend from high school, before I dumped him and he filled out and became gay, handsome, and learned how to dress.

There's pizza for me downstairs. I know if I eat it, I won't feel good. I know if I don't, I won't feel good.

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I think I've finally found something I would bargain with God over, which makes paranoid me wonder if this means I should really make an effort to show non-existent-or-not-caring-said-omnipotent-individual that I'm really trying to get better so I can get my Visa before I get the opportunity because that kind of logic only makes sense to me...

Ugh. My momentum is gaining and it's getting me upset. I need to get back under the covers and be still again. But not mopey. Not moping. No mopes.

P.S. If anyone has magic powers/is Jesus/an Ambassador it's time for you to do me a favor.