I know, it’s been a while, right? Job changes, mysterious illnesses, and time with the dear ones has kept me far far away from my laptop.

What exactly do you make of it when your doctor looks at your throat, says, “Oh my!!” and gets no conclusive results to the multiple tests he’s done? I don’t know either.

I do know that it means a week in bed, a 104.4 degree fever, an inability to eat or drink anything when you really should, ingesting lots and lots of vicodin, being convinced that you’ve seen a face in your meatball sandwich (which of course you take a picture of and send to all of your friends with the caption “It’s Cheesus! Actually it looks more like a Mexican Wrestler, but whatever,” and decide to start a cult for if you get better the next morning… and you do), taking more vicodin, still being in pain, being held hostage by your mother who takes your apartment keys knowing that you won’t go anywhere if you can’t get back in your building (which is a moot point really when you can barely roll over to take your medicine), and then feeling better just as suddenly as you got sick.

Thank you Cheesus for healing me.

Then again, the four days of sleeping straight, only waking up to take medicine, and the antibiotics might also have had something to do with it. Nah, it was definitely Cheesus.

So, if you’re wondering about the huge number of pounds lost this week, that’s why. It’s not the best way to lose weight and for someone like me who struggles with not wanting to eat, it’s downright dangerous. Honestly, though, it makes me a little happy.

I mean, it’s really hard to be upset to be losing weight so quickly. Therein lies the trouble, that’s what causes problems when I’m not sick. I remember how quickly I dropped the pounds because I wasn’t eating and then I don’t want to eat afterward because I want to keep up with the weight loss.

Beating 235 was such a big thing for me and now I want past other weights that I have associations with. 220 was the weight that I was for the last two years of high school. It’s the next bridge to cross, the next number to fixate on.

Also to fixate on: those size 18 pants I squeezed my ass into last night. I couldn’t even believe that I was wearing a size 18, like, I haven’t put anything over my derriere that didn’t start with a 2- since… 9th grade, I think. They were definitely not street legal yet but they were looser than my size 26s were when I first started this whole thing. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. The world doesn’t need to see that level of camel toe.

Shall we talk about goals then?

This Week’s Goals

1. Go to two classes at 24 Hour Fitness. I didn’t do this the other week because I started working again temporarily. Now that I’m once again unemployed (and well, thank you Cheesus!) I shall take advantage of the free time to see what I can do with this here body.

2. Eat. I almost feel like it’s pointless to make this a goal. I know that for the next few days it’s going to be a losing battle until I just get too tired and hungry. That point will hit and I’ll get myself back on track but it’s a battle I lose for the first few days every time. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep fighting.

3. Drink lots of water. I’ve been dehydrated on and off for a wee bit too long. I haven’t been vigilant about keeping hydrated and I can feel it. When I wasn’t awake, there was a decent reason for this but since I’m back among the living I need to prioritize this again.

4. Give myself grace. There are a few things that have happened recently that made me want to kick myself, hard. It’s been really triggering to some of my most self-destructive instincts. I’ve been really careful about not giving in to those instincts but it’s been a really big struggle. I think that if I can give myself some grace in the fact that, yes, I screwed up and no, it isn’t the end of the world, I’ll be much better off.

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