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It's rained the past four days and the widgit on my desktop says it will rain the next four days. Wait, two days. There is a sun on Saturday and more rain on Sunday.

I got home last night and ate a whole lot. This week is kind of a wash. With Mike being here until Wednesday, I never got into my Monday groove of breakfast eating and gym going. I felt cruddy last night. I don't think I could ever binge again like I used to. I don't want to say I've tried to but now when I binge and feel gross, I compare it to what a Jessica binge used to be and it doesn't even compare. I went up to my room and decided I'll catch the encore showing of last night's America's Top Model next Tuesday.

I love the book I am reading so much. I've mentioned it before. A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. A memoir on an addict's six weeks in rehab. I read as if in a trance last night. It just got better and better and I can relate to addiction. I truly believe I just have an addictive personality. I've experienced drug addictions, food addictions, people addictions. I've always been obsessed with someone or something or some act. I've accepted this so now I just indulge in healthy addictions and try not to let my world fall down when I can't have them.

The gym for example and writing down everything I eat in my red leather journal every day are my two addictions. Routine is my addiction. I've eaten things on the go and couldn't figure out their point values and found myself getting shaky and the fact that I didn't know what I had just eaten. Yeah, I know that's fucked up. It happens less times than more. To calm myself, I just needed to get to a computer and look it up.

I rather be addicted to improving my body, mental health, and physical appearance than crack. When I say mental health, I want it known I'm not neurotic about these things. Yeah, I said this week is a wash and I ate a lot yesterday but I'm not going to break down over one week with no gym and some tostitos. It's cold, rainy, the seasons just changed, my days are off, I have a dr.'s appointment near my house at 3:30 today, I have no clean clothes. I'm not going to the gym.

So I was reading in my trance last night and I found myself cold yet sweaty and my heart was racing. I put the book down for a second and tried to remember what I had just read. I felt alone, petrified, and the image of my bedroom was slowly coming into focus and the image of me in my past apartment huddled in a corner with scraps of burnt aluminum foil were all around me and fading out.

I took a deep breath and went downstairs for a cigarette. Sitting outside in the rainy cold I thought about what I had just read. A particular scene in a run down building, everyone is smoking crack, I see the yellowish smoke, I smell it as if I'm smoking it right that second. I can't get enough enough enough. I hear someone and I freeze. I don't want them to know I'm here. I don't want to share I can't share.

I shake my head and take a long pull from my cigarette and stub it out half way through and go back in to where it's warm and safe. I say nothing. I go back to my warm bed and pick up the book and stare at it.

I can read this and I can finish this tonight. I got through the scene without any increase in heart rate and I didn't see myself. I looked down and saw me cuddled up under a warm blanket in a brightly lit room. Soon into the book the story just got more amazing and made me smile and made my eyes tear up due to amazing kindnesses that took place in this man's story. I decided to leave the last few pages for a gift for tonight. Something to look forward to after a long day.

I fell asleep and prayed for no drug dreams. They come few and far between. My dreams were strange and alarming and more so of dreams one would have when on drugs opposed to dreams about doing drugs. I woke tired and not feeling well. I'll have no probelms making it through the day and I look forward to doing chores tonight to make going away for a great weekend tomorrow even better.

Guess what? I'm going pumpkin picking on Sunday!