I broke my scale. Then I got another one. This one says I’m 138. Not 131. I don’t want to believe that I’ve been this far the whole time. The only explanation is that I’ve been a fat fuck lately. I need to smarten up. Longer exercise regiments, lets go from an hour to one and a half, then lengthen that to two by the end of the month. I need to eat less. It isn’t enough to starve all day and nibble around dinner. My friend usually breaks my resolve around 8/9 with munchies, and if I’m baked it’s an issue. I’m always under 200 calories until then. Like yesterday. I burned 698 calories on my bike, I’d eaten 100, then she came over with pizza, and I was super stoned, so I ate 835 at the end of the day.
I am a fat disgusting pig, I deserve to be shot and hung as an example.
In other news, I was in a car crash on Thursday, and fucked over my back. So I’m out of work, broke, couch ridden, moved and don’t even have a room, living in the living room corner of my co-worker, and will never amount to anything more than the pathetic fat girl who couldn’t make it in the world.