wtf, body.  w.t.f.

i sleep in this morning (glorious).  upon waking, i go through my normal routine.  bathroom.  scale.  scale says impossible number.  step off.  try again.  same number.  (.5 lbs away from GW2!)  i decide scale is fucking with me.  i go shower.

i go to volunteer event.  get away with just coffee for breakfast.  they feed us pizza for lunch.  i am standing away from the line, trying to look inconspicuous.  M thinks i am waiting to get in line...gestures for me to cut in front of him to get a piece.  there is only one piece left in that box, so i don't even get to choose for size (luckily, it is a fairly small piece).  i eat it.  i feel intensely awful all the while.  i wish i could make myself sick, but i have never been able to.  (i probably would have tried when i got home, but roommate was there.  and sound carries in our house.)

i get home.  pull out scale.  scale says GW2.  what. the. fuck.

scale is definitely fucking with me.  body is fucking with me.  it knows i will have to eat tonight.  it knows i have no choice.  tomorrow i will wake up and be a million lbs heavier, i am sure of it.

i am downing diet soda for caffeine content and fiber packets like there's no tomorrow.  my tummy is unhappy because of the pizza.  ugh.