It's my surgery and I'll eat what I want to.
It's the last seven days of my "Eat Whatever the Fuck I Want" countdown and while I'm not going completely crazy, I have decided that for the next week, if I want to eat it, I'm going to eat it, with no guilt. That's why this morning, I went into the diner, had French toast and sausage, and didn't hate myself or make myself vomit after.
And tonight, I'm going to enjoy a piece of carrot cake.
I'm getting so tired of hiding in my apartment and turning down invites to do things that a year ago I would have loved. I was supposed to go up to the Bronx Friday night with the boys. What did I do? Stayed home and ate. Last night, I was supposed to go out clubbing for Evette's birthday. What did I do? That's right. Stayed home (but didn't eat). I feel like a prisoner and surgery just can't get here soon enough.
I had more to say, but I'm just feeling a little low. SNG and I are really disagreeing on the whole surgery thing. I'm very much I WANT TO BE THIN NOW! and she's more "Oh, I'm doing the work on the inside." And I get frustrated with her because I think this is the answer to everyone's problems, so why is she being so stubborn?
My mom is on a plane tonight, off to spend a week in Dublin, so a safe flight to her and I'll check in with everyone tomorrow.
What I'm reading: Nothing.