Whiny Complainowitz

So I’ve been pretty much in a bad mood all week.
I’ve been dieting and working out for the past week and a half and so far the only changes I’ve seen in my life are that I am much more hungry and sore and cranky.
So while in Emo Mode I happened to notice how much of my daily routine is comprised of Making Myself Presentable.
In my bathroom, I have Whitening Strips because my lack of drinking coffee and smoking coupled with my brushing twice a day just doesn’t seem to cut it anymore.
I also have tanning cream, because I don’t want to frighten small children with my pallid exterior. I don’t want to tan “naturally” because I don’t want skin cancer, but I try to avoid going outside anyway because there are bears out there. Unfortunately, I am slightly allergic to the tanning cream, but itching all over is a small price to pay for not looking like a Joss Whedon character.
In my bedroom, I have SuperMax Anti Perspirant which is so potent I can only use it once a week. If and when I do perspire even one drop, it stings so badly, it’s almost as if it’s simply pH-balanced shock therapy designed to condition me mentally to stop sweating.
All the food in my overflowing pantries is nothing I actually want to eat, but rather what is “good” for me to eat. Unfortunately, life is not a video game, and if I eat +1 apple, I can’t actually watch my health meter go up, I just kind of have to hope that it does.
When I look around, the only self-indulgent things I own are my computer and my video games, both of which I turn to when I am hungry, sweaty, and pale.
I don’t blame society for doing these things, because I like people who are thin, tan, have white teeth, and no sweat marks. I guess I’m just upset that I have to do a whole lot of crap to appear normal.
Then I remember that right now, my brother is alone in a forest trying to find a squirrel so he can eat today. And I feel like a bitch for complaining. But that’s a story for another day.