losin it

I've been trying to lose weight.

I track what I eat on fitday.com and I'm exercising and I'm doing all the stuff that you're supposed to. After 4 weeks I weighed in at 209. I lost exactly one pound.

When you're in a jam you should always go with what you know, and since I've never been comfortable with moderation, I figured there was only one way to go. Starting on Sunday I started starving myself.

Sunday was fine.

Monday I woke up hungry and spent most of the day thinking about food and telling people what I really thought of them (note to self: telling people they're whiny fucks might not be the best way to make a good impression at your new job).

Tuesday I woke up feeling like I was half drunk...that was the more functional half. I got up all dizzy and drove to work swerving all over the road and crying my eyes out over some NPR story about Arctic drilling...THOSE POOR ESKIMOS.

I got to work and finally cracked. I had a Clif Bar in my bag and wolfed it down. 2 minutes later the sugar hit my system and I got a euphoria that bordered on a religious experience. It was like all the vomiting you do before you start hallucinating on peyote....I mean, so I've heard....allegedly...anyway, I wouldn't recommend it as a form of getting high, but I wouldn't discourage it either.

So basically I made it from Sunday night till Tuesday morning, about 36 hours, eating almost nothing. It makes me realize that if I'm on a plane that goes down on the Andes, I'm definitely going to be one of the ones that eats the other passengers. And notice I didn't necessarily say "dead passengers".

In any case, I started eating a little more regularly, with of course the accompanying guilt that required a couple of 2.5 hour rides the last couple of days. So its reassuring to see the the anorexia has taken at least a small hold.

Oh yeah, and I got on the scale today...205.