Today started off as a good day, but I have ended up in the foulest, grumpiest, sleepiest mood in the world. I have just completed my trial essay for that writing job and I'm sure it was a work of art, but thinking about it. I know nothing about british law, so fuck it. I may fail miserably. I am fully committing myself to job hunting tomorrow. But right now, I am SO sleepy.
Today I have had about 420 cals. I had a biggish bunch of grapes, a pear and some tomato and mexican bean soup (about 200 cals). I'm totally not sure that my fruit is taking up that many calories, but my cal counter says it is, so it must be right. Anyway. I went to the doctor today and they weighed me and I am about 60kg. Which is great. It means that I have lost the fat that I put on just before I came here. And if I can have another two weeks of restricting like this, I should be down to 55kg in no time. Thank fuck.
I need to get a job though so I can buy myself my reward scale. Fuck. Anyway. So the doctor today reviewed my shit, gave me more drugs and then told me that she would like to refer me to yet another ED centre. Fuck me. I refuse to believe that I have a goddamn problem. Yes, okay. I am neurotic about what I eat and my weight etc etc. But I am not going through the whole recovery bullshit wank. There is NOTHING wrong with me. Even that WHORE told me it's better to be my weight than fat. Yes, I am a fattist. WHATEVER mutha fuckers. Fuck. Anyway, I agreed to go anyway, because I do believe that this is part of my treatment to being a better me than I am right now. And also, it is a challenge. Is that sadistic? I see this doctor as being a challenge to be lighter next time I see her. Hopefully in one month I will weigh 55 :D :D - how amazing will that be!? Challenge accepted.
Sorry that this has been so uncoordinated. My brain is fried and I am so fucking tired. And I need to find a fucking job ASAP. Mutha fucker.
Sleep & Tea