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Shopping today. Checking out and the woman at the register next to me is trying to get the guy in the front of the line’s attention because she can take whoever’s next. I walk back to him and tell him her line is open, but while I’m walking, someone cuts in line. So then the guy yells at me, in a busy store in a really nice mall, about how stupid I am and now he’s lost his place in line and he doesn’t need any of my kind of help. I can’t let him cut in front of me because the other cashier has already started ringing up my stuff.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him. And then I turn around and say I’m sorry to both my cashier and the other cashier.

“Don’t worry about it,” my cashier says.

“No, I’m just that kind of person. I’m going to feel bad all day,” I say. And she kind of frowns at me, like she’s disappointed in me or like she disapproves of me.

Because I’m nice, people think I’m stupid. Maybe I am stupid. I deserve to be, as punishment, I guess somehow.

I should just gain all this weight back so I can just wear my old clothes and not need new ones that fit.