This morning was not a good morning. I measured myself, and I’m over 160. I have NEVER been so high. I was hoping that it was a mistake. I even measured myself again. But there’s no doubt.
I keep telling myself that it doesn’t matter. That some day I’ll find a boy who likes me for who I am on the inside. But then I see all of the little 100s and 90s walking around in their skanky Abercrombie outfits with some hot guy on their arm, and I know that I can’t compete.
I’ve tried, heaven knows. I’ve tried to read less and work out more and I might dye my hair blonde(r) and go shopping at Abercrombie and see if I can pass myself off as someone who’s a little less . . . you know. But I know they’ll see through it, and I know it’s a turn off. (Which is so ironic, because there’s so much more of me to love!)
But at night, when I’m sitting alone at my computer, working on an entity-relationship database model. I know I’m destined to be alone.
No one wants to date a girl with such a high IQ.