Salad
I don't think I can ever get used to having salad and Diet Pepsi for lunch. Sure, there's nothing actually stopping me from getting a double cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake when Katie, Jen, Janet, and I pop out of the office at 1pm, but I don't. Even if I've only gained a few pounds since landing in Michelle's body, despite not always having stellar diet and exercise habits, it almost feels like doing so would be just make the others resent this body's good metabolism. Besides, it's not that good; I still do gain some weight, and it's not like I can afford new jeans on a receptionist's salary.

I also figure it's in my best interests to stay in shape. I've got to look at this body in the mirror every morning, but it's more than that. Switching back isn't it my hands, and if Michelle doesn't want to return to a porked-up body, I'm stuck like this. Similarly, her original letter challenged me to stay with Kurt until she returned, and I know Kurt cares about a girl's appearance, maybe too much. But I don't mind looking good for him, really - I look at it as being like buying flowers, or jewelry, or some other small gift for a girl. It looks nice, shows you care and thought of the other person, and it lets them show off - the girl by displaying the flowers or wearing the jewelry, the guy by being seen with a pretty woman on his arm.

I wonder if Kurt will get me anything tonight. It's not like I need more flowers or jewelry, but the effort is appreciated.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Salad and diet soda. I never liked salad; even if I know it's good for me, I hate the sensation of lettuce, onions or the like in my mouth. It's like I can't chew them enough and they make this awful papery sound that no-one else can hear. And they don't taste very good, either.

-Martin
- posted 2:11 PM - - (archive use only)