Running 11 Miles In My Shoes

Imagine that you're running a six-mile race. You don't want to. You're a fat kid. Fat kids like Chinese food and Hostess cupcakes. Fat kids do not do marathons.

But everyone decides that it will be "good for you." So guess what, fatty? You're running those six miles.

But not only are you running six miles, you’ve also been assigned two hecklers. One is a micro-managing control freak mother figure. The other is a moody, bi-polar adult/hormonal teenager who hates you…and most other people.

You start off well. You think, "Hey, this is easy. I can do this!” And then you trip. And everyone will always remember that you tripped. Especially your hecklers. And they bring it up all the time. And the pressure and embarrassment causes you to trip over and over until you’re a bumbling failure, constantly on the verge of giving up.

But you’re getting close to the end. Thank. God. The end is finally near! You can see the finish line…and somebody walking up to it…and moving it back another two miles. What. The. Hell.
Alright, fine. Eight miles! You’ve done six already. You can do just two more. Two miles. Huffing and puffing and jiggling and gaining weight out of stress and depression and fighting with your friends and family and taking everything much harder than you normally would. You start to cry. You cry for the next two miles. And you want to die.

But it’s about to get better, right? You near the finish line. And time’s running out. But then you hear talk going around. They want the finish line pushed back another three miles. You’re desperate. Hysterical. You become anxious. Are the rumors true?

You could do six. You struggled through eight. But now 11? Nobody will tell you anything. They talk around you. The hecklers. The people in charge of you that decided this whole thing was “good for you” in the first place.

You begin to wonder when you’ll ever be in charge of your own life again. When YOU get to decide what’s good for YOU. And until then, you’re stuck in this limbo of Not Knowing.

And the hourglass is dwindling. What’s going to become of the fat kid trapped in perpetual motion?

Love,
Katie

So Sick And Tired Of Being Sick And Tired

In recent days I have been busy, Internet. Incredibly busy. Like, obscenely offensively (to me) busy. It's nuts.

I've been working and having nervous breakdowns and crying and screaming at poor unsuspecting boyfriends. Oh, and preparing for SCHOOL! which started on Monday. And I apologize for not being around much, but oh Internet, I haven't had the time!

But do you know what I do have time for? Facebook status updates. Oh. Yes. You wanna know what's been up with me? I'll tell you what's been up.

Katie Cole is mad at Corey's douchebag friends because they're the male versions of the cast of Mean Girls.

Katie Cole is irrationally angry simply because her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend is alive and trying to bang his cousin.

Katie Cole's tattoo artist has Guy Fieri's voice.

Katie Cole is wondering if she can get her tattoo artist to tell her that her tattoo design is "killer" or "money." Also wondering if it will cost extra for said things.

Katie Cole is tattooed and trying not to let her dad find out because he once told her that if she ever got one, she'd have to change her first and last name.

Related: Katie Cole has back fat.

Katie Cole has gained 16 pounds since March last year because her boyfriend is an enabler of fat kid-ness.

Katie Cole is taking her first online class ever.

Katie Cole is trying to stay on top of school this semester lest she never graduate.

Katie Cole's Urban Geography professor has the same voice as the Piggy Bank from Toy Story and she can't stop picturing said pig when he lectures.

Katie Cole has been recognized by her Sociology professor. Yes, Professor McNeece, she DID fail your class last winter and yes, she shamelessly IS back for more.

Katie Cole is easily angered lately.

Katie Cole is angry at Jason because he is trying to bang Tila Tequila-looking whore.

Katie Cole is fighting with Jason on Facebook.

Katie Cole is mature.

Katie Cole is calling her boyfriend to cry and tattle on his cousin, Jason.

Katie Cole is getting Starbucks on the way to class to make her feel better.

Katie Cole just talked to her boyfriend again and Jason is sorry.

Katie Cole is sorry she was mean to Jason.

Katie Cole is continuing to sob uncontrollably and for no real reason so that it is probably dangerous driving on 696.

Katie Cole is not only the girl that is recognized by her Accounting professor as a student that has taken and failed the class not once, but twice, but is ALSO the girl that shows up to the first night of class bleary-eyed from crying the entire way to school.

Katie Cole's Accounting professor caught her in the bathroom and asked her if she was okay and promised to help her with her homework if she needed it.

Katie Cole is embarassed.

Katie Cole has convinced herself that somehow by tattooing her uncle's last words on her body, that she has created some sort of intuitive connection between herself and him and is experiencing the feelings of overwhelm and helplessness and anger that he was experiencing last year at the very same moment and that is why she is feeling the way she is lately.

Katie Cole swore she heard a heartbeat speed up, slow down, and then stop as she was trying to fall asleep last night.

Katie Cole woke up at 4 AM with a soreness in her neck.

Katie Cole thought she saw ligature marks on her neck in the mirror this morning.

Katie Cole is seriously fucked in the head.

Katie Cole probably needs therapy.

Katie Cole cannot stand the anniversary of her uncle's suicide today.

Katie Cole is trying to keep her crying to a minimum at work.

Katie Cole needs gum because she has coffee breath, but can't make it downstairs to buy any because she is manning four different phone lines.

Katie Cole has several people calling her repeatedly and telling her how to do her job.

Katie Cole forgot to bring a lunch.

Katie Cole is beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, Big Mac Snack Wraps might not be so bad.

Katie Cole is really fucked in the head.

Love,
Katie