I lost track of what day I was on, and I'm too lazy to count, and it seemed like too much effort to go back to see what the number was on my last blog entry. I'm tempted to say today should be 037, but I'm not entirely sure. Yes, that is just how apathetic I am feeling right now.
That's not to say it's a negative feeling, I'm just very indifferent right now.
Yesterday I was starving and I cheated, and then told myself it doesn't count as cheating because I'm not doing ABC anymore. Which is all well and good in theory, but my ABC day yesterday would have been 350 calories. On the new plan, Thursdays are 100 calorie days. So no matter how I look at it, I cheated. And I lost just under half a pound so I'm okay with that. I went over by eating two handfulls of chocolate covered raisins, and a bag of Special K Mini Breaks. I woke up and weighed myself and the number was 188.0lbs. However, I forgot that I was 188.4 yesterday, so I thought I was only down 0.2lbs, but when I got to work and went to log it in my food-diary and my normal diary, I was pleasantly surprised to learn I had lost 0.4lbs instead. Yay!
Last night I spent an hour and a half trying to curl my hair using my flatiron. If you knew what my hair was like, you would laugh right now. Ok go ahead, I'll wait. To put this in perspective, my hair is mid-back-length, but also very THICK. And in its natural state it is so frizzy that I would not be insulted if someone described it as "tumbleweed-esque". It takes me anywhere over 45 minutes to dry and straighten my hair. To add insult to injury, after drying (but not straightening thank god) last night, I decided to try to curl it.
WHY I decided to do this, I have no frigging clue. Clearly, I am deranged. I didn't use any hair product, so it was kind of frizzy, but the end result looked pretty good, if I say so myself. I was getting really frustrated though because certain sections refused to curl and it took forever to make them OBEY GOD DAMN IT.
Then I realized... wait. Now, I have to go to bed. And when I wake up, I am going to just look like a fuzzy headed freakmonster. Shit. I doused it in hairspray... which wasn't really "hairspray" it was GHD's Creation Spray which is supposed to be used WITH the flatiron, to keep the style, not AFTER the flatiron, after you realize you're a retard who really needs to invest as much money in hair products as she does in makeup and shoes and skincare.
I had a nightmare that woke me up last night and had be convinced there was something watching me from the shadows in my room. But that's not out of the ordinary, since I'm the biggest wuss in the world, AND I'm afraid of the dark. Eventually I fell back to sleep, though I woke up lots and kept changing position. When I woke up, the hair was... kind of a messy wave. But thankfully, not much frizz, hoorah! I put a little hair slide in one side to hide where the curl had just gone insane and was trying to blind me with the pokey ends of my hair. Voila, nice look.
I'm also wearing less makeup today than usual, and I'm actually feeling pretty good ("less makeup" is kind of subjective. I still have Hanskin BB Cream concealer and tinted-moisturizer-foundation on, plus a little blush, gloss, liquid liner on top, and mascara. But usually I also wear 2-4 shades of eyeshadow plus eye kohl for good measure. But I digress). My jeans and work trousers are feeling a little looser. The top I wore yesterday, I haven't worn since just before I started this journey, 13.4lbs ago. Then, it looked horrible, it was tight. But I wore it yesterday and it actually fit and didn't look or feel like I'd forced myself into it. My waist is trying to make an appearance in the show. These are good things. So, I'm feeling positive.
I'm so rambley today. Back on topic prease!
At work, there is a huge move-around going on. Basically a bunch of extra managers and second-in-command type people have been tossed, and the powers that be are reorganizing all the remaining staff into new teams, so that skills are distributed into the areas of a persons expertise. The team I'm in now... I like it, I like the people, and it's the easiest shit you ever did hear about. But since October, I've been working six and a half hours of my working day for another team, doing their work. I figured all along that I would be moved from "my" team into this other team. Which, predictably, I found out today. So I guess I can't say it's an unpleasant SURPRISE per se, but it wasn't a happy moment. My manager asked me how I felt about it, and I just told her I saw it coming so I was prepared for the news anyway.
Today's been very up and down. I started off feeling exhausted, and then perked up for most of the day. Right now though, my sinuses are starting to hurt and my neck feels stiff from staring at the computer since eight thirty this morning. I'm leaving in 22 minutes, and I really can't wait. Freedom! This place does something to you. All day yesterday, I felt horrible. I felt like I was getting a ridiculously bad flu. My entire throat and neck felt swollen to the extent that it felt like I'd swallowed an (American) football and it had lodged itself sideways in my throat. I had an earache so bad the entire right side of my face hurt and I couldn't find a position that my jaw could be held in to not aggravate the pain further. My head was pounding, my sinuses were feeling both dry and painful. I had a headache. I felt really nauesous at one point.
I know some people who don't "get it" will jump on the "It's because you're restricting you dumb bitch, this is your body paying you back HAH!" bandwagon, but unfortunately, you stupid whorebags, that's not the case. So hah right back at you!
See, as SOON as I stepped outside, all of this went away. I walked to the bus stop with my friend, waited, got on the bus, then walked home from my stop, and I felt absolutely fine! I think maybe it has something to do with the quality of the recycled air in the building or something. Or it might be a psychological subconscious reaction to the fact that I HATE this place with a passion and would really love to raze it to the ground while dancing naked around the fire and chanting curses upon the directors of the company.
If any blog statement will ever get me fired if my boss finds it, it'll be that one.
So anyway. I think a similar thing is happening today. I don't feel as horrible, just a little headache and neck ache really, and I'm pretty sure that once I step outside into the fresh air, I'll feel fine.
I'm making my famous pasta dish tonight. I say famous, but I'm the only one who has ever had it before, and even then was only once and I fucked up and put way too much olive oil in the sauce, but shut up and let my delusions of grandeur live on for another five minutes ok?
Ok.
I'm over it now.
I can't for the life of me remember what I wrote when I blogged last night about The New Weekly Calorie Plan, so this might be reiterating something you've already read, and if it is I apologise. But my aunts have now both officially had letters of acceptance for Gastric Bypass surgery. They're both going (along with their best friend who was referred a month earlier) to the same information session at the beginning of March. Basically it's a group consult with a doctor who will explain the procedure and give information on what to do beforehand (like apparently they have to go on an all-yogurt diet for two weeks before the date of the surgery) and required aftercare, and answer any questions. That kind of thing. Actual surgery dates will be scheduled after this session. So, the pasta evening has become one of celebration. For them because they're getting the life-altering surgery that is, in effect, just forcing them to follow the path I'm on right now. For me, it's a celebration because soon there won't be so much SHIT in the house. No food to tempt me. No more making big group meals that I have to partake in because they spent SO MUCH TIME cooking it. Yay!
Also, I honestly don't think they would have any right to say anything about my eating habits, if they're just forcing it upon themselves with surgery. They may not be disordered in the way that I am, but essentially gastric bypass surgery is enforced self-starvation to lose weight, in my mind anyway. They lack the willpower to do it on their own, so they're getting a doctor to go in and make their stomach so small that they physically will not be able to eat a normal amount of food ever again. As I said before: I will succeed where they have failed. If they had the will power in the first place, they wouldn't be doing this to themselves.
I mention this because on Wednesday night, my aunt turned to me and asked me what I ate for dinner, obviously because she noticed I didn't have anything when I came home. Like, what business is it of yours? You're stuffing yourself constantly, I don't tell her "hey you shouldn't eat that because if you didn't eat it, you would lose weight anyway and you wouldn't have to go through barbaric surgery." And she's forcing starvation upon herself, so she has no RIGHT to say ANYthing about what I do or do not eat. Anyway, I lied and told her I had subway for dinner. Which was a half-lie, I guess, since I did have a 350-calorie sub for lunch.
But again, I'm digressing. It's almost 4 now so I'm going to get ready to go home and get some basil for my pasta. I'll probably post more later, and I promise to try to make it slightly less rantey.
Love you, ladies.
Vee xxxx
Friday, 20 February 2009
A Pleasant Surprise, and an Unpleasant One
Labels:
calories,
diet plan,
family,
food,
good day,
restricting,
starvation,
weigh-in,
weight loss
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3 comments:
Thanks for that little story...You've convinced me to just shave already!
"Or it might be a psychological subconscious reaction to the fact that I HATE this place with a passion and would really love to raze it to the ground while dancing naked around the fire and chanting curses upon the directors of the company."
hahahahahahahahaahahahaha
<3 hehe happy to please
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