Operation Mini-Skirt Status: -25.2 lbs.
Days to England: 16
Mood: Pretty Freakin' Horrible.
I gained a pound over the weekend, people. I gained a POUND! How?! From where did these rogue 16 ozs come from? Were they in some kind of holding cell, waiting to be released on a day that I weighed myself? Is it my body trying to taunt me, telling me that I'm only destined to shop in plus-size stores for the rest of my life, because the scary stores that carry clothes for people who wear size 0 are just not for me!?! It's not like I ate more... I didn't cheat on the nazi-diet. If anything, I had to suffer more than usual, as I was surrounded by Halloween treats and alcohol. I should get some kind of subliminal thin credit for that, shouldn't I? I wasn't any more sluggish than usual. I even got some extra cardiovascular exercise by dancing on Saturday night. What the hell!? Does clubland perspiration not count?
I will not dwell. I will not dwell. I will not focus too deeply on the fact that I'm going to be in London in two and a half weeks, and I've paid a single supplement, which means I'm only going to get a single bed, and I can't afford to gain even one more ounce or else the single bed won't hold my poor, bloated arse...
Oh God, I'm dwelling.
And I'm a tad hysterical. I think this is the part where someone is supposed to slap me.
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I haven't really made it a practice to update on the weekends, but yesterday I felt that I had some 'splainin' to do...
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I finally figured out how to make my Contact Me thingie work, so please... if you read me, let me know. Oh, and what do you think of the yellow? Too much?
Have a good day, people. I'd join you, but it seems that I've already got other plans...
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