Friday, oh Friday. I should be all smiles as I type at my desk. I should be anticipating the weekend, only hours away. Instead, I sip coffee (it’s delicious, whoever made it in my office) & fight the urge to tear up because crying at work, well, just sucks.

Moments ago, I stumbled upon a basset hound blog, thanks to good ‘ole Google! Immediately, I added this cute blog to my blogroll. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I ADORE basset hounds. I grew up with them & became a fast basset lover. Who really can resist their long droopy faces, the ears that they trip over repeatedly, or the way in which they love EVERYONE they come across? (warning: don’t invest in a cute basset pup with the thought in the back of your minds that it will grow to be one hardcore watch dog. not.going.to.happen).

When the first family basset, Millie, died, everyone (especially my mom) was devestated. I was a junior in high school. I recall being obsessed with the Sarah Brightman CD, “Time to Say Goodbye,” at the time. Whenever I would play a track my eyes would swell and, of course, I’d remember Millie. I can honestly say, after encountering countless dogs during my lifetime, that she was the sweetest thing in the world. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. My mom used to say that Millie was a “hippy basset” because all she wanted to do was love and be pet. We had to put her down because she was suffering from cancerous mass cell tumors. She suddenly wasn’t interested in food. This was a HUGE red flag ’cause bassets (especially pleasantly plump Millie) heart food! Running out of ideas, I set a single green bean in front of Millie one evening after supper. I was hoping she’d eat it and that the green bean would miraculously cure her because it was a veggie. I was either extremely stupid or extremely delusional. Perhaps both.

 ’Lil Sis, since she’s the brave one, carried Millie to the car on the day we’d all have to say farewell for good. The next basset was Sadie (otherwise known as SadiePants & still going strong at 9 years old). She is nothing like Millie. As a matter of fact, she’s kind of evil. Thankfully, we all love her anyway (she’s lucky she’s so darn cutesy cute).

So anyway, when I discovered Basset Blog and, found a story about losing a basset hound, (a story I can relate to) I wanted to crawl under my desk and sob. What’s wrong with me? I’m not even PMSing!

Maybe THIS is my true, deep rooted crazy Korlina problem that makes me depressed on this Friday at work… 

On the way out the door this morning, I lamented to J that I didn’t feel great about myself (my body and, thus, myself to an extent). I’ve probably gained about 10 lbs from the weight I was at last year. I know I can get a handle over it if I just work out more, but I dunno… it has just been so damn hard lately. Oh, and the days where I try to limit my calorie intake, I feel lethargic, mopey, irritable, and mad at the universe. I swear, I don’t know which is unhealthier, being a bit overweight now or being insanely stressed to the bone. I was 10 friggin sexy pounds lighter when I was a stressed out wacko. I was too busy to think about food. I know, shocking!

J, being J, told me that I still look great and, that yes, I will get back on track. The past weekend trip to Vegas where I ate myself silly probably didn’t help in my current state of ”Oh, whoa is me, I’m fat” this week.

Being a girl and having body image issues is no fun. I’m not always like this. I’ve been confident in my body plenty of times during my life. I’m just going through a phase. I suddenly really care. I care the moment my jeans start not fitting and, the moment when doing cardio at the gym feels hellish.

Once the weight commences to drop, my ego will get the boost it desperately desires. In the meantime, I’ll ignore (yeahhhh right) the guy in my office eating the chocolate cookie ice cream sandwich at the moment.