This weekend was a holiday.
Here I am, 27 years old – about to start a bomb job tomorrow – the stress of my past 2 unemployed months lifted from my shoulders –
And yet this weekend I went camping – in the happiest of Ralph Walo Emerson places- and was still consumed by the inevitable eating disorder panic.
That moment that everyone in a car shouts “Let’s get ice cream!”
And you sit in the back, slinking into your Marmot jacket – trying to disappear from your reality in the back of a Colorado Suburu SUV.
Annoyed by the people asking – and then annoyed at yourself for feeling flustered in the first place.