Today kicked. my. butt.
Because of my appointment / unfortunate lack of gym attendance, I was able to sleep later. However, I had a nightmare in which I didn’t wake up until 9.51 (my appointment was at 8.30), and so there went the whole “sleeping later” thing.
I wore this shirt today, partly because I like the “flowy” nature of babydoll tops when I feel “fat,” and partly because it so perfectly matched the earrings I debuted.
The earrings are all fine and good, unless you wear them for sixteen hours straight. They are kind of … heavy.
Since I do not think it is prudent for me to know my weight, I did the same thing as last time and told the doctor that I wasn’t interested in that information. He said okay. Not five minutes later, he said, “So … last time you were here you were X pounds, let’s see where you’re at now.” Me: “I did not want to know that!” Doctor: “Oh, then, you didn’t hear me.”
I didn’t look at the scale. But I did see what he wrote down after that, and I think I may have overreacted in the ensuing internal freakout — of the OMG I am getting so fat variety. Seeing that, you know, I’m supposed to be gaining weight, it doesn’t make any sense to get hysterical over something so trivial. How trivial? We’re talking two whole pounds. In four months. I am so ridiculous.
Quite frankly, it is tiring to care about this crap. And while I’m not going to say that I wasn’t prone to “obsessing” over thinking that I am fat, I definitely wasn’t obsessing over a number, because it’s hard to do that if I don’t know the number. I guess what I really want is for that knowledge not to affect me so strongly. I want to believe that I am “more than just a number,” I really do… but I often don’t think I’m even that.
Off to the lab I went to get my blood sucked, which turned out to be not quite as simple as it should be. And to check the four voicemails that I received while I was on yet another aggravating subway ride. All of them were from Mr. J — “Where are you? I’m looking for you.” Uh… I told you yesterday that I had a doctor’s appointment this morning! When I told him that, after he called for the fifth time, he got all defensive: “I forgot!” Oh, now that’s my problem too?!
Anyway, I turned in my old key, got my new one, and hobbled through the farmer’s market.
So sad. I’m going to miss this.
I hobbled because I think the shoes I was wearing had a disagreement with my feet. My right heel was radiating stabbing pains up my leg all day. Not fun. But I eventually arrived at our new offices, where we spent the day unpacking.
One thing I do not like about this office: for various reasons I will not get into right now, I am probably going to be much more sedentary than I have been. Cue freakout.
I do actually have a video / photos of my new office, but since it’s not all that interesting, I don’t think it’s necessary to share it.
At some point, I did consume a salad.
I knew I would be going to the lab for a fasting blood draw, so I didn’t eat anything before my appointment. And with all the move-related craziness, I just never got around to eating until lunchtime. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to eat. That’s what happens. But at the same time, I wonder… if I’m supposed to be “normal,” I mean, don’t all people have times when they’re so busy that they just don’t have time / forget to eat?! Isn’t that different than having nothing to do all day but still sitting obstinately twiddling your thumbs and refusing to eat??
No worries, anyway. I probably ate 75% of my daily calories once I go home. I actually tend to do that a lot — eating more in the evening than during the day, because I really really really hate eating at work. I also really hate eating so much later in the day, but it’s the lesser of two evils, I guess.
I took a break from Pasta Week — or, should I say, used a more liberal definition of “pasta” by spiralizing a zucchini instead of using the penne.
And this totally should have gone in a bowl, or at least a bigger plate.
Oh — I finally tried the cashew butter!
I used about a third of the packet … spread of a cinnamon raisin cracker flat.
I’m trying to wrap things up here, because I am exhausted and I still need to figure out what time I have to leave my house tomorrow — not an easy task for my sleep-deprived brain. But I seem to have verbal diarrhea…
To make a long(er) story short(er), I saw my nutritionist tonight. I don’t know why I feel so bent out of shape when people tell me I am doing “well” — I just feel like a big fat screw-up, and I don’t know why I bother to try and pretend otherwise, because it is pretty hopeless.
Yeah, I’m supposed to be identifying my emotions… a lot of those might be applicable, but right now the prevailing one is sad.
I did, however, go to the supermarket after my appointment (I had no cauliflower — tragic), and … uh-oh.
The protein powder was on sale. Ha. I’m using enough of it these days that I don’t have to worry about having three canisters at once. As for the peanut oil… oh, the peanut oil. I’m not even going to start on that.
Happy Thursday… tomorrow is a new day.
Questions: Have you ever had a crazy dream you thought was real? And are you a “day eater” or an “evening eater”?
“Silence is the true friend that never betrays.”