This morning my husband shook me awake in order to say good-bye; it’s rare I don’t hear him getting up and getting ready. So when he shook me awake, I couldn’t even say goodbye properly because I was so dead tired. With my eyes barely open, I told him to have a good day and that I loved him, and promptly fell back into a deep slumber.
When my alarm went off an hour later, the only thing that got me out of bed was the fact that I needed to weigh.
My limbs felt as if they were filled with sand. I felt a bit dizzy. And when I emptied out my bladder, my stomach, which barely had any food in it, felt hollow and painful.
But despite the physical discomfort I was in, the scale flashed a new number. For the love of God, my plateau finally broke and I was a little over a pound down from yesterday. My stomach, which has been bloated for what seemed like weeks, was the flattest it’s been in a while.
When I sat down with my boss today, as she spewed out numbers and amounts and percentages, I nodded my head and pretended to understand, but my brain was not processing things well. If she had asked me to repeat back what she was saying, I wouldn’t have been able to quote anything. My head felt too much in a fog, my eyelids were as heavy as stone, and all I wanted to do was lay back and sleep.
It’s almost 4:00 PM and I have yet to eat anything; my stomach is growling and you can hear it. I haven’t heard my stomach growl in months, but the feeling is somewhat euphoric.
I keep flip-flopping between wanting to fast and wanting to eat, but I will let fate decide. We are heading up to my dad’s house after I get home from work, and by the time we get there it will be around 9:00 PM. Will I have time to squeeze something in between now and then? Maybe, maybe not. But either way, I’m not deciding now. I’m too tired to decide on anything.