It’s Thursday afternoon. I have made it through most of the week with little caloric intake. I have lost 2 pounds this week. I am doing well. Enter my mother stage wrong. Every so often my mother being the loving woman that she is, brings me lunch at the office. It is an appreciated gesture but sometimes annoying. Today’s gift of lunch is a cheese steak with fries. If you aren’t from the east coast and don’t know what a cheesesteak is, it’s a sub roll with low quality shredded beef and cheese. It’s quite delicious. It’s also quite the enemy.

The smell of it makes me both hungry and quesy. I take a bite and while it is delicious, I can feel the calories heading straight for my thighs. I’m doing so well, I don’t want this horrid thing. I’m also hungry and broke. I think I’ll eat the sandwich, skip the fries, and take an extra stacker.

I’ve lost 2 1/2 pounds since sunday. I’m not doing it in a particularly healthy way I must admit. I wouldn’t call it an eating disorder per se. I mean, I am eating and I’m not purging. I am however taking stackers after I put anything with more than 50 calories into my body. And I’m drinking loads of green tea to clean my system out. Come pay day I’m tempted to get a box of laxatives. Honestly, I’m running myself ragged. But, 2 1/2 pounds is promising. And it promises to be more promising if I keep it up.

I’m not unattractive. And I’m not that fat. But I could stand to lose a good 5, 10, 50 pounds. I know, unrealistic body goals blah blah blah. Spare me the lecture, I get it. I’m not healthy right now. And mentally as well as physically. But, I’m sick of looking fat at a size 10 around all my size 5 and below friends. 10 is really not that bad of a size. But it is when EVERYONE you know is a fucking stick. Because when your the size 10 in a group of size 5s, you’re HUGE. I’ve done well though, this time last year I was a 14 and the fall before that I was an 18. So, I’m getting there. But, not fast enough. And that’s why I’m doing this to myself. I’m moving in a few months which means I get a fresh start. I’ve always been the chubby girl. I don’t want to be the chubby girl. Which means, I want to lose at least 20 preferably 30 pounds in the next 2 months. Quite the feat I know. But, I can do it. I will do it. I have to do it.

I’m taking Paul (my friend who is totally gorgeous, totally the nicest person ever, and totally a 24 year old virgin by CHOICE) out for a birthday dinner this weekend. We’re going to a little Moroccan place that I love. But, it’s a 7 course meal and there’s no getting out of that. Luckily, I’ll be with someone who I feel totally comfortable around so I won’t get all weird about food and shit like I do around a lot of people.

 

I wonder if I can lose like 5 pounds by then?

 

Scratch that, I WILL lose 5 pounds by then.