Memoirs of a Fat Girl

Alrighty then, shall I go on to explain my absence? I think I should.

Lack of internet connection is pretty obvious. I refuse to subscribe to anything before I fully move into my loft, meaning internet, phone etc., so Jess hooked us up with wireless. My sublet-ee agrees to leave whenever he's here, which is brilliant. You didn't think I'd shack up with my boyfriend in my parents' basement, did you?

As for the signal, it's shamefully bouncy and temperamental at best. It shone through in the bathroom however, but then sitting on the floor and surfing the net beside the toilet bowl, where the most unglamourous moments of my life have taken place, just wasn't appealing. I think you can appreciate that.

I forget which of the seven deadly sins Sloth is, but I'm a champion of it. Does this mean I'm damned? As if I didn't have enough to worry about. Anyway, being that it was the holidays, Jess was here, the weather was gorgeous, I didn't have to go to work, managed to sleep in for the first time in over a year... you get the picture.

Circumstance. Now this is the real fucker of the group. I saw a man die.