What a week. Wait. It’s only Wednesday? Crap.

Technically now it’s Thursday. I don’t even know, I can’t keep track anymore.  Halp me.

I should have known it was going to be one of those days when I ordered, not one, but two extra shots of espresso in my venti latte this morning.  Ladies and gents, do not follow my lead on this one. This is not healthy.  But I am not giving up coffee anytime soon.  Especially not when I decide to stay out until 2:00 AM the night before, singing Hall & Oates at karaoke night.

I have to get to bed, so let’s do this thing.

Spinach & feta omelet with Eli’s health bread. 

Lunch: seaweed salad and vegetarian roll from Haru

Stress eating. x57

An unappetizing looking, but deliciously delicious dinner of veggie burder on Great Harvest honey whole wheat, with broccoli, corn and peas. 

It’s been kind of an emotional week for me.  I’m either crying or cursing.  I apologize if you got in the line of fire (I’m looking at you, fellow 4 train passenger who insisted on shoving their elbows into my ribs.  And also my Mom, Dad, brother… or anyone I made eye contact with).

You see, I’m moving home, in with my parents, after getting caught in a bit of a transitional period.  NYC I’ll be back, but for now, I will take living rent-free.  I’m still only about a half hour outside the city, but it’s still moving – gasp – outside of the city. Tonight, I packed up my whole life from the past two years in this apartment. Every bottle of nail polish, scrap of paper, and bobby pin.  Every memory.

(Unlike me, some people are happy about me moving out because they get to rummage through my overflowing back-up of beauty products. Anyone need some nail polish?)

Maybe I’m feeling particularly weepy recently because I haven’t been to the gym in a week and I’m low on endorphins. Or maybe it’s that I realized my commute just got 45 minutes longer and I’m losing an extra hour of sleep every night. Perhaps its the happy realization that I no longer have to use my bed as an ironing board. Or maybe they’re tears of joy knowing that I can actually drive my car to Whole Foods instead of lugging my ripped, overstuffed grocery bags into the subway, maneuvering around the two-speeds coming from Williamsburg. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I have had 5 hours of sleep (or less) a night since Friday.

Dont worry (because I know you were). I’ll be weeping waxing nostalgic in the blog posts to come for the next few months, but first, I need to put myself to bed before I collapse forehead first onto my keyboard

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