Well, tonight brings my four-day fast to an end. I have, like many times before, succesfully gone four days with no food. Do I get a gold star or something now? NO I FUCKING DONT.
Is this the only shit that I am good at?! and- newsflash!- I'm NOT EVEN GOOD AT IT. The piece of shit fucking scale at the mall today printed out a little ticket thats said: YOUR WEIGHT: 101.2
REALLY!? I was 102.. FOUR fucking days ago.. and I have lost a fucking fraction of a pound. This is a load of bullshit. Pardon my french, I usually reserve this type of language for shitty situations.. OH WAIT- this IS a shitty situation. I just slogged down 6 ducolax.
I am currently laying on my bed.. pausing to do sit-ups and then typing more onto this post.
Tomorrow I was going to break the fast with lettuce, vinegar and 4 carrots.
Well NEW PLAN. I am going to have a 6 lifesaver allowance tomorrow. (Those little round, tasty candies.. 10 cals/piece) I am going to wake up early, walk to mall once again, and weigh myself on the satan-scale before I even begin to unwrap one of those sweet things that I don't deserve anyway.
I'm too big. Im triple digits and I CAN'T handle it. I MUST be in the 90's by Thursday. That is FINAL.
No arguments allowed.
Polls closed. Votes Counted.
Wars waged and tears cried.
mandatory meeting with: NINETIES.