"I've come to believe errors, especially written errors, are often the only markers left by a solitary life: to sacrifice them is to lose the angles of personality, the riddle of a soul" - Johnny, in House of Leaves

This is kind of my personal motto now. It's my permission to error. Not that I really needed it. But it's nice.  

In other news, one really bad crunch-time week in my program can take my - otherwise very balanced and "me" eating habits and turn them into super-binge a la whole toblerone bar, entire bag of ketchup rice crisps and a poutine. I've only recently realized that I'm a bit of an emotional eater, and it's not good. Because, I don't mind eating yummy things when I'm, oh, I dunno, actually hungry, but crazy binges are actually a bit freaky because my brain takes over even though I know that I should feel satisfied, but I don't. I'm all like "I just ate 800 calories, wtf, why aren't I full yet?" and my brain's all like "BECAUSE STRESS. and I hate you." 

Off kilter. 

Don't like it. 

So you can take that little tid-bit and add it to my whole "how I relate to body-image" spiel. Thingy. If you like. Or not.

In other, other news (you'll notice I use this transition a lot. I estimate that I have typed this phrase approximately 2,000 since I started writing dumb blogs on the interwebs. Seriously. That's my actual estimate.)

Anyhoo, in other news (2,001) Husband and I are having some difficulty with our current daycare situation.I won't elaborate at present, but just let me say: if they continue to be dickheads you are going to have one deliciously ranty blog entry coming your way. 

If that's what you're into.