It is Friday night, of Friday 13th. It has really not been a good day.
I walked out of my office at 17.02 and promptly burst into tears. Tears which didnt stop until 18.07, during which Id managed to walk home, give directions (yes- they still asked), drunk two cups of camomile tea and gush my entire problematic life to my flatmate, who despite her sins did a bloody good job of listening.
It is now 20.09 and I have since been to Asda to ask for boxes since we are moving in a week (they said no). I have tried on several outfits, which although did not look bad, would look considerably better with a toned body underneath. I bought one top which was 5. I have decided that I need to start looking smarter at work and this will mean spending money on office wear. I dislike buying clothes when I am not my desired size; I delude myself that it might give me the incentive to keep dieting.
I have got our dinner, which is the very unhealthy chicken and chips. My incentive, quite clearly, does not work. Out of distress I have eaten 4 water biscuits, a banana and half a limp sandwich today, so by now I am quite hungry. Being me, I have to then eat four days worth of food in one meal.
20.14. My flatmate and I are watching Flashdance, which neither of us has seen before. We are hungrily eating chicken and chips, and watching the energetic dancer bounce around our screens. Staring glumly at the screen I tell my flatmate that I would give anything for a dancers body. If someone said to me that I couldnt eat any of my favourite foods again, but that I could look like her, Id choose to look like her.
My flatmate laughed, disbelievingly. I stared at my plate and realised what I had just said.
Either Im lying, or Im stupidly lazy. And I dont wish to be either of those things.
I walked out of my office at 17.02 and promptly burst into tears. Tears which didnt stop until 18.07, during which Id managed to walk home, give directions (yes- they still asked), drunk two cups of camomile tea and gush my entire problematic life to my flatmate, who despite her sins did a bloody good job of listening.
It is now 20.09 and I have since been to Asda to ask for boxes since we are moving in a week (they said no). I have tried on several outfits, which although did not look bad, would look considerably better with a toned body underneath. I bought one top which was 5. I have decided that I need to start looking smarter at work and this will mean spending money on office wear. I dislike buying clothes when I am not my desired size; I delude myself that it might give me the incentive to keep dieting.
I have got our dinner, which is the very unhealthy chicken and chips. My incentive, quite clearly, does not work. Out of distress I have eaten 4 water biscuits, a banana and half a limp sandwich today, so by now I am quite hungry. Being me, I have to then eat four days worth of food in one meal.
20.14. My flatmate and I are watching Flashdance, which neither of us has seen before. We are hungrily eating chicken and chips, and watching the energetic dancer bounce around our screens. Staring glumly at the screen I tell my flatmate that I would give anything for a dancers body. If someone said to me that I couldnt eat any of my favourite foods again, but that I could look like her, Id choose to look like her.
My flatmate laughed, disbelievingly. I stared at my plate and realised what I had just said.
Either Im lying, or Im stupidly lazy. And I dont wish to be either of those things.