Dogged spirit (another lengthy post)

Arghhh so I had a terrible night tossing and turning and woke up about five freaking times. But before I get there I have to rewind backwards a bit to yesterday. It's was Alfie's birthday and because I was meant to go meet him and give him his card and a kiss but didn't feel well enough, he trekked allll the way to mine just to see me which I thought was incredibly kind seeing as he had to have dinner with his family in the evening and had to rush back. But anyway, he came over, and I sat on his lap in one of our big armchairs for about half an hour (he loves doing this and insists that I'm light even though I say I'm crushing him). Then my 15 year old sister waltzes downstairs, dressed up to the nines in her standard whore uniform - see-through shirt, shorts you can see the bottom of her arse in, push-up bra and over-the-knee stockings - aka the outfit I could never ever pull off unless I was like 110 lbs or less which is what she is. So she is planning on wearing this into our fairly tacky, seedy, dirty London local shopping centre, right, to get her passport photos taken. And I'm there in my grandma patterned leggings and this frumpy top I've owned since I was about 12 and a cardigan with a snotty nose and no makeup sitting on Alfie's lap. She's all like, 'Gabrielllllle, will you pleeeeaaase come with me to get my photos taken' (little do I know, the only reason she needs me to come is so I can pay for her). So I look at Alfie and he's like 'why don't we both go' and I'm all 'yeah I probably need some fresh air' so ten minutes later I'm out of the house (don't worry - I changed out of the granny leggings). It was soooo humid out. Like, about to rain, but this horrible heat was hanging in the air and all the pain that had been in my throat that morning sort of migrated to my sinuses. There was this pressure at the back of my eyes and nose that was killing me. So I was all eeurghhh on the way to the shopping centre, and after the pictures were done, we went to McD's (WHY God, WHY) because my freak rake sister hadn't eaten all day even though it was 6pm. I was actually going to get a small milkshake - and NOT feel guilty about it - because I thought the coldness might help my nose and throat feel better. I didn't get a milkshake. I got a chicken mayo and a diet coke with ice... which actually really helped too, but still, urghhhh fast fooood. And to make me feel even more disgusting Alfie didn't have anything because he had his dinner to go to... :( Fat piggy strikes again.

Anyway. I saw him off and gave him a birthday kiss because by this point I was certain it wasn't tonsillitis, and he said he might pop over tomorrow (ie. today) with birthday cake for me and my mum. Which was really sweet. My sister went home and I went to the chemist's, with the original intention of picking up a new pair of scales. Let me tell you, they're not cheap. £16. But I spent it anyway even though I don't have it, because I'm freaking obsessed with weighing myself and apparently can't go longer than a day without knowing what I am. While I was in there I thought, OK, I might as well go get myself some Tyrozets or something, seeing as I'm here now. They didn't have Tyrozets behind the counter so I told the chemist my symptoms and, surprise surprise, he gave me TADA, Sudafed. The old stuff with pseudoephedrine. Haha... the irony.

I took two of those last night and they worked like a charm - on my sinuses I mean. Not so much the appetite thing. Maybe it was because I genuinely hungry (higher metabolism from being ill, walking around all evening etc.) but I ended up having crisps with my mum, bread and hoummous again (new kryptonite) and a bunch of other stuff I really didn't need. Blah.

Oh and a note about the scales: Thanks for all your tips girls. But I do weigh on a flat surface (my bathroom floor) and in the same place/same time every day, so I don't think it was that... I think my old scale genuinely went whack on me. But anyway. I set the new pair down this morning and for some reason they're set to the kilos setting, and I can't put them back to pounds. I'll try to work it out soon. I was 64.5kgs. That's 142 lbs :( Fuck that. However. Ano fate was completely right, because I spoke to my dad last night, and it turns out I'm not going to be able to go to the States this side of Autumn. My sister has to go to Italy too soon for her to get back on time, and my father's schedule over there is completely hectic. We would have to be chaperoned everywhere and while that's dandy, he would also like to spend some time with us. So I'm going in October instead, during the half-term, where we'll have time to see each other. Amsterdam, on the other hand, is looking very feasible for August. A long weekend, easy travel, lots of smoking (weed) and walking and listening to good music with whoever I choose to bring... and no requirements to eat fried chicken. This, kids, I am very happy about.

So that takes us up to this morning. I slept awfully because I couldn't breathe and I still can't breathe. I hate not being able to sleep, and I especially hate waking up early when you don't even have an obligation to do so. It triggers binges for me. Needless to say, by 10am I'd already eaten 400 calories worth of food doing the kitchen dance, which is over half of my intake :( But I seem to have this strange dogged spirit now I've found out I'm no longer going away. I can lose weight without interruptions. I have the whole of summer to do this now. And I'm not giving up.

OK I'm going to stop talking now. It's obviously the Sudafed making me go nuts. Wish me luck with the birthday cake.

Also, this thing reminded me so much of how me and my sister talk to each other, haha, and it made me laugh: