thirty-three.

I'm still 118 today. And I count myself lucky. I completely lost my mind last night. In addition to the three bowls of cereal I had early, I had a Lean Pocket (as predicted), a Skinny Cow ice cream bar, and two pieces of fucking cold pizza. Little pieces, since it was from a small frozen pizza. But ugh. I was sure I would have gained. Today I absolutely mean NO FOOD. I have been giving myself way too much wiggle room lately. And I mean the wiggle part literally. Or perhaps jiggle room would be more appropriate, since that's what my entire body does whenever I move. Disgusting.

Oh, and my boyfriend discovered that mustard on cold pizza is delish. To him. It personally disgusts me.

I want to be 115 by the end of the month. That is my goal. It should be no problem, since I was only a pound and a half away when I started eating everything in existence. I have a week to lose three pounds. Oh wait. Shit. I just realized that I'll stop bleeding on the 30th. Fuck. That won't work since I'll be carrying bloat weight. Argh. Well I'm going to shoot for it anyway. By April 2nd, I will absolutely be 115. Watch me.

Eedee.

EDIT - OH. MY GOD. My dad just called me and asked if I wanted to go to Florida for a week. April 2nd until the 10th. I don't think it's any coincidence that I decided not one hour ago to be 115 by the date we leave. The universe is rewarding me for my resolve and determination. I've wanted to go to Florida ever since I got back last summer. This is so awesome! I HAVE to look good for the beach. Oh man. And I get to go shopping because I don't even own bathing suits that fit. Or shorts for that matter. Oh my god, I am so excited!