...and Bingey was her name-o...

Yep.

It's one of those days...

I'm so glad my darling hasn't gone grocery shopping since we got back from MN.

...you know, because then there'd be food in the house...and in the current munchy state in which I find myself, I'd soon be feeling FULL and FAIL. And we don't want that, now do we?

Last night was pretty ridiculously horrible. I finished up my housework (I clean my uncle's entire house, laundry, etc. and run any necessary errands for him every Friday in return for room and board while I'm in school) and then packed up all the stuff the babygirl and I would need for a weekend at my boyfriend's place.

<...I sure do get tired of calling him "my boyfriend" every time I write about him.... The bf shall henceforth be called "K." The little one? "B." Yes. We'll try that. I don't know exactly how everyone will know that in the future if they miss this post, but hopefully I'll be adept enough with the ol' context clues so as to avoid any confusion...>

So it's pretty late by this point, after everyone's fed and watered and clothes are packed...probably about 10:40 or so. I check the weather right before we embark on our little 20 minute excursion (on a Friday night...ugh, stupid crazy ass motherfucking drunk drivers...I hate it) and see that it's about 17 degrees outside, with a windchill of about 10. FANTASTIC. Ha, I sure am complaining a lot in this post. Meh.

So anyway, we set out and B is nearly asleep already in her carseat, but still awake enough to ask me a kajillion questions as we pull out of the driveway. I'm just concentrating on keeping myself from turning into a girlsicle in the driver's seat; my heater works when it wants to; about 18% of the time. It mostly just makes a funny sound and doesn't blow any air at all, warm or otherwise. In all of my infinite wisdom and foresight, of course, I failed to bring gloves or a hat. Yeah. Us Texas girls aren't suited for this type of weather.

My defrost doesn't work, of course, so when the windshield started to fog up, I reached up in front of me and tried to wipe some of the condensation away. This never works as planned. That, and it seemed that a lot of the obstruction was on the OUTside... Recalling what K had said up in MN recently concerning windshield wiper fluid in cold weather, I switched on the wipers in complete confidence that the stuff would not freeze.

OH but it did. SOLID. Within an eighth of second, a surprisingly thick layer of opaque ice covered my entire field vision in one, immovable sheet. Can't see. Luckily, I'm still out on a secluded back road, so I can stop and try to remedy the situation without too much fear of being run down or shot or mugged or something of that nature.

We don't have ice scrapers down here. No one needs them. I'd never even seen snow until last year when we went up to Minnesota, not in my entire 23 years. Once again...Not suited.

Pulled out an old debit card and started scraping away. No gloves, no hat, just a coat that's just oversized enough to form a nice, big gap right over my chest and neck, inviting plenty of 10 degree chill down my shirt. NICE. Much to my disappointment, my ingenious plan of scraping the ice off wasn't working so well, and meanwhile, my fingers had turned from white to red to white again, streaked with scrapes I couldn't feel because they were beyond numb by this point. B was fast asleep, fortunately for me. Ugh. SO unpleasant, all of it.

Managed to drive to a gas station, continue scraping until my visibility was satisfactory, and then get on my way. BUT...not before the nighttime binge monster appeared rather unexpectedly, whispering that I'd definitely burned off enough calories getting through that ordeal alone to make up for the Reese's candy He really wanted me to "enjoy." Reese's = tastybutevil weakness of all weaknesses. I bought it. King-sized. I felt like a kid who'd stolen a pack of gum from right under the clerk's nose, walking back to the car slowly in the burning cold, clutching the forbidden chocolate close to my chest, underneath my huge coat.

"You will throw that away now, thank you."

Ana! She'd come back. Thank the gods.

Ah, but I'd just bought it. I literally have about $60 to my name right now...and I'd spent nearly $2 on this candy that I obviously wanted very badly.

"I'll just chew and spit it." I had made my decision. Win win, right?

Almost. It wasn't difficult to reach back and grab one of the twenty or more emptyish Starbucks cups from my rear floorboard and get to work. God, it tasted so amazing. I couldn't feel my fingers and my toes were missing too; my nose was bright red to match my bloodshot eyes, but my tastebuds...they were alive and well. I'd restricted all day like a good ana should... Less than 900, with nearly 500 calories burned via cardio and housecleaning...I was justifying. Rationalizing. I *deserved* it. Pssh.

I swallowed two small bites. The rest was faithfully spit into a cup I'm sure never expected to hold anything more than a delicious triple grande skinny cinnamon dolce latte...but hey, first time for everything, yeah?

All in all, my calorie count for yesterday was definitely under what I had planned in the morning. Second day in a row that I've done that. It feels nice.

There's no scale at K's house. Believe me, as soon as I get that financial aid disbursement in my account... $20 is going to a K's-house-scale. Have to have one, every single day.

Anyway...I'm just rambling now. I 'pologize. I needed to get my mind right, you know? Chase away the temptations before they got the best of me. Little B want's me to make some oatmeal cookies. That's, unfortunately, far too easy...So simple, so quick, and we have all the ingredients. She's 3. She doesn't have to know we have all the ingredients. Later, after we've been to the grocery and I've been allowed to purchase my body weight in spinach and cauliflower and broccoli...THEN, I'll make her some cookies. Yes.

I'm off to read your wonderful blogs, ladies. Your words keep me strong. Your presence keeps me sane. Thank you! ;)

Stay lovely!

<3