Friday, December 11, 2009

What's wrong with this day?

I feel so weak. Tired. No, scratch that... Exhausted. This makes no sense. Sure, I went to sleep at about 3 AM...but I didn't wake up until 8:45 this morning. Which means, by my usual standards, I got sufficient sleep. I shouldn't feel like this.

It's more than fatigue. It's a cloud, a dense, thick, heavy, oppressing...presence...bearing down on me, weighing me down as if I'm walking around my house wearing a backpack full of bricks just for shits and grins. Ugh. Doesn't help that today is utterly fail outside. Cold, overcast, no sun to be seen for miles and miles... Just...gray. Granite. Hard. It matches my mood perfectly.

I think this depressed feeling, which hit me unexpectedly and rather quickly at about 10 this morning, is the result of a combination of things. It's Friday, and it's my responsibility to make sure that this entire house and all of the laundry and dishes and bedclothes within it, are clean by 6 PM. Sorry, bud...not gonna happen today. Oh, I'll get it done. I have no choice. It's what pays my rent, so to speak. I'm just going to take forever doing it.

Yes, so that's one reason, I think, that I feel so shitty. I hate cleaning this house. Despise it. One good thing? Cleaning disgusting toilets REALLY kills your appetite...had I one at all. Usually would, but that brings us to the second reason I think I feel like total dog crap: I ate entirely too much this morning...and didn't work out. At all. No gym. Woke up late, as I mentioned earlier, took the little one to school, went to the store to pick up a few things for her Christmas program at daycare, and came home to clean. Told myself that it'll be okay, whatever I ate for breakfast (approximately 400 calories) would be worked off during housecleaning, and I'd have the chance to get the gym after the house was done. Then I came home and proceeded to eat...again. I wasn't even hungry. FAIL. Fail in every sense of the word. Honestly. That's not even JUST lack of's even worse. It's premeditated, completely ALLOWED bingeing... I ate and could have stopped at any time but because I feel so shitty, I kept going, thinking something I put in my mouth was eventually going to make me feel better. Nothing did. I stopped, though, because tomorrow's goal of 135 is so important to me... I have to make it. I know that a total intake (so far) of 900 calories by nearly 5 PM isn't the end of the world, especially considering the workout to come...but still, I feel fail, so I'm fasting til after I run. Then, only egg whites and neg cal veggies. You know, to keep my muscles from dying and my ears from ringing. I've really gotta train my body to run on less...but I know that's walking a thin line, and allowing myself to peer over that edge into what I know is harmful...Hm. It's dangerous stuff, that is. I force myself, as of now, to consume at least 1000 a day, and just work off like 400 to 600... It's so tempting to eat just 500, work off 600, and lose a ton of weight that way. I KNOW it's not the way to do it, I KNOW it's bad for me, and so that is why I fight myself, and I do it "correctly." Whatever that means. However, if this weight doesn't continue to drop as I need it to...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

My back is killing me. This chair fails. I think I've written that here before.
This was supposed to be a short entry. I'm entirely too longwinded for my own good. I...apologize? Yeah.

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