Guess who got amazingly drunk on Friday night, fell down some stairs, and sprained her ankle? Yeah. Me.
That's honestly what I get for drinking massive quantities of liquor on a (beautifully) empty stomach. I was trashed after the first drink. I made it down most of the stairs that I can usually navigate just fine but tripped on the last or second from last. The whole night is a blur, but basically I landed on my ass and starting tearing up and saying, "Ow". Two random dudes tried to pull me up, one at each arm; at first I resisted because I was scared I'd be embarrassingly heavy but in a split-second they had me on my feet. I ran into N.'s arms and the rest is fucking gone. I blacked out. I stuck my fingers down my throat in the middle of everything and puked up liquid. I drove fucking wasted home. I didn't munch on anything (thank the good lord) but it's really because I was too drunk to eat.
I slept like shit and woke up in killer pain. At ten in the morning, so I could go to my Dentist appointment. Hungover, I sat in the chair, reeking of booze I'm sure, and blearily chatted with my Dentist while he poked and prodded in my mouth with instruments used for torture. I limped around all day, worried about the pain but not wanting to make a big deal of it because family was in town, and the focus was on them. Luckily my Grandma came over (she used to work for a foot doc), looked at the tennisball-sized swelling that had developed on the side of my ankle, screamed at my Mom for something to wrap it with, and wrapped it. Extremely tight. I woke up with skin abrasions.
Needless to say, I'm in pain. I was fucking stupid drunk on Friday night and this is my reward. More pain, suffering, and inconvenience. What the fuck.
I have class everyday and I work this week. I don't want to be slowed down by this annoying GIMP.
J. and I got in some weird, long texting conversation about us both wanting to hang out but it never happening because I'm too busy. Or something like that. It was cool to have him dedicate some time and thought to a message but really, I'd like a phone call dude. We're just friends, obviously, so it's not necessary. But if anything was to develop I'd like that. I'd call him. Idk. But we haven't really talked since then. I'm not texting him, he's not texting me. He said that he wants it to be mutual. Specifically, he thinks "the girl waiting for the guy to do everything is bs". I don't know what to think of what's going on and I've clearly got a million other things to worry about. For realz.
I'm sure you're wondering how I did with food this weekend at my parent's house. I'll gladly tell you. I did ok. Friday, I had 2 pudding cups, 2 slices of thin crust cheese & mushroom pizza, & an apple before I left College town. I then headed to parent's house and grabbed a black coffee for the road. That night I came in when there was a few relatives over and a couple trays of pizza. I refused pizza for the entire night and ate one cookie [150 cal]. That was the night I went out drinking.
Saturday I was really hungover and craving carbs, so throughout the day I had 1 cinnamon raisin bagel with "I can't believe it's not butter". 1 apple. 1 soft pretzel from the mall (gave some away).. Salad with a small amount of Italian dressing. 3 slices of thin crust cheese & pepper pizza. Steamed broccoli. Some Doritos (I know). Slice of cake (no ice cream).
It seems like a shit ton but for twenty-fours that's really not terrible. I felt incredibly skinny when I woke Saturday, which relieved some of the agony of my bum ankle. I felt bloated from the salt when I went to bed but today I woke up feeling okay.
Today: Black coffee. Soy latte. Cookie. Veggie burger with lettuce, tomato, onion, ketchup, mustard. On a bun. Banana.
It's after eight at night. So Friday and today were decent. I'm so beat. I took a nap when I got back and am sitting here in a fog. I missed class on Friday so I keep checking my email to see if my teacher ever got back to me (I sent her some long email) - she hasn't. Plus I have no idea if we have an assignment due tomorrow ... WHATEVER.
I am smoking a little bowl and chilling for now. I loved the looks I got when I refused the pizza and said "no ice cream with my cake". You see, in my family Eating is Everything. That's how it has always been. Our dinner table was always a battlefield of picky eaters, eating disorders (my parents binge-eat) (my brother and I under-eat), and food allergies. It's dysfunctional. Each.And.Every.Time. we eat together. I guess it's only natural that I'm so fucked up about food.
I need to be thinner.
I need to be as thin as her:
She's actually the background on my laptop. I also have a pic of me looking bony on the background of my cell phone. What can I say? I'm weak. These little reminders keep me on track.
I'll be saying strong, and I really hope you will too.