Ugh

Home.
Current Weight: A. Million. Fucking. Pounds.

Fuck my weight. When I came home I looked like I've lost, but the numbers are up. And aren't we all just slaves to the numbers? That's all that matters.

I binged tonight. Mexican food. And it was on accident. My brain just kept telling my hands my stomach was hungry, but the strawberry margarita clouded its judgement. This one night pretty much cancels the three days of gym this week. I will be lucky if I don't gain at weigh in tomorrow.

Why do I even try the healthy way? All my body says is to just fast. Just water and coffee. I only eat on the days I run. That's what needs to happen.

I say I want to eat oatmeal for the rest of the week. He says "Don't tell me what you're going to do. Just do it." He has no idea what he's saying, but I take it as permission.

Sorry this post is weird. This blogger app sucks, no Internet in my new apartment. And I'm slightly inebriated.

Xoxo,
b.