Because people at work who I dont want to make chismis might be able to chance upon my LJ. PeopleSupport is Blog-o-Landia, especially with our account, the account of looooong wait times. You start here, and in two weeks' time, I bet, you will have a blog, be it here, in blogger, blogdrive or tabulas, the last one having the most users. And since I'm quite a veteran here already (read: old), and masungit (read: I'm not going to make idle conversation, nuthead, I'd rather surf, and blog, and blog hop, thank you very much), people will naturally be curious on what I do write.

Whew. That was a long segue.

Onto the real point of this entry.

Edil has started hitting the gym again (He's gunning down for this body.), and though I should be feeling happy and dandy about it, I'm not. Not in a real sense anyway. For one, he is pressuring me to hit the gym and not eat as well, which, actually stems more from concern than anything else. But hard-headed me won't take any orders, especially coming from him (kuno).

Ewan ko ba, I can be in control and disciplined on anything but eating. I've longed acknowledged that I'm an emotional eater. When I'm bored, I eat. Sad? Eat. Happy? Celebrate it by eating. Example, the day I lost 30 pounds when Edil and I were separated, I ate a Cheesecake factory, eating a slice each of 4 different kinds of cake.

Yesterday, while I was at KFC eating with an officemate, she told me things I'm not privy of which has been happening with people I consider friends in the office. One has sexual problems (she thinks she is frigid, she just can't lubricate during sex), and one found out her husband was cheating on her. Sure, things like this happen all the time, but I get shocked and saddened all the same.

Friend T, already has three children, spaced 1 year apart. She dresses like she is dressed for lounging around the house doing chores, and we would even have to sometimes remind her to brush her hair. She usually borrows money which she will pay on pay day and then the cycle repeats itself. She sometimes eats boiled egg alone. But, talking to her, you sense a keen knowledge and wisdom and a beautiful soul. She even looks good, except that, right now, para lang syang “

Cheating husband is no looker, has a job which is so-so. He takes Friend T to concerts, bars, and the like. But he sometimes doesn't go home. He even notices Friend T's hair and suggests she get a treatment. Four days after Friend T gives birth, he checks in a sleazy motel with a sleazy girl.

Does marriage really suck you dry? Leaving you with just a ghost of yourself?

I still think (and believe) women give more in terms of love and sacrifice in a marriage. Which actually makes me scared a bit. Close to a month in the marriage, I have not been able to indulge myself of two hours (just two hours) of non-stop dancing alone in my room and being able to doodle stuff in my notebook. I have no ME time.

Then, Edil becomes a nag pressuring me to go to the gym and be a health buff.
Which, honestly, I don't have time for. I work 6AM to 3PM, go home,either do laundry then cook dinner, or cook dinner then iron clothes. Then it's teaching time for Matthew, and sleep. My luxury time is when I can finish two mugs of coffee without thinking of what I'm going to do next.

I'm not justifying my excuses. I know if I make time, I will have the time.

During Discovery Weekend, Edil just made me promise two things: 1) That I learn how to handle money (finish my debts), and 2) That I take care of myself. Presently, three-fourths of my salary goes to credit card debt so I can have them closed by December. The take-care-of-yourself part? I need to work on that.

I know looking good might be superficial, but, looking good takes effort. And discipline. Not all vanity. So, I better conquer this frigging little big thing and be fit.

If only I can resist that chocolate cake.

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