Carbo-loading

This afternoon am feeling weepy and hungry--specifically for cinnamon raisin bagel with butter and also a coffee. (Later, the Contessa directs to article on SAD in the Times in which all is explained--the Contessa says that last winter she had a secret stash of mini snickers bars in her desk--am both glad and upset that she kept secret from me--thanks to Jenny and the morning exercise, side and belly fat have finally been reduced to acceptable levels--though as the weatehr gets colder the runs have been a big perfunctory--Jenny also a fan of carbohydrates and being cozy.) On street, get excited about bagel immediately find reason to regret decision to sing song from yoga class from day before--remade version of Billy Jean--when run into Libby. (Note: never again sing, make monkey faces, scratch self, mutter, or laugh.) Libby shakes her head at me. So at least not everythign changes. It appears the city exists only to make her life difficult. Fresh Direct forgot her cottage cheese and replaced it with greek yogurt. Defend Greek yogurt to no avail. Make several attempts to leave, but each time inch away, Libby recalls another slight. One man on train cleared his throat nonstop--here she does a very unsettling impression. Ask if Man had to spit (am afraid that Libby has to and will). No, she says, just blow his nose about fifty times inbetween the throat clearing. Tell her that I've got to get a bagel. She snorts derisivly which strangely makes me more hungry. Ask, How's your pregnancy are you craving anything? She replies briskly, maybe if I ever stop throwing up. Begin to think that will never achieve bagel, and become anxious. Am shocked and impressed with self when squeeze Libby's arm, kiss her on the cheek and say, You look great!