What weekend?

I hate Mondays mornings when I wake up thinking, Did I even have a weekend? If so, where did it go? I am exhausted today because my recurring trouble with sleep has been back with a vengence the past few days and I think my lack of good rest is taking its toll on me. I would say I haven't been able to sleep well for the last two years, about the time I left my beloved. Sleep deprivation = shitty life. No wonder I've been so moody, oh wait, I'm moody no matter what!
I made an ineffective attempt at dressing up as Colombian pop singer Shakira this weekend. My blong wig was too straight and my hips were not telling any lies about all the Jack in the Box I've been eating lately. I think I looked more like Donatella Versace, if you can imagine that.

Anyway, I'm developing a mini-crush on a graphic designer at work. I want to send him an e-mail with the subject line "You're hot. Want to have dinner?" Of course, I'll never do that, such a brazen gesture would be borderline to workplace sexual harrassment (No lawsuits need apply!). Besides that I'm inept at relationships, I don't believe the terms "workplace" and "romance" should ever be in the same sentence, especially if you are a journalist.

So my performance at work today is pathetic. My goal is to make it to the gym after leave here today. I haven't been there in more than two weeks and I need to lose five pounds pronto. Well, I need to lose more than that, but I'll start with five.