02.10.01

I don't get why it all has to be so damn much work. I want to lose weight; I don't eat all that much (Mike is of the opinion that I'm probably not eating enough), I get in a good chunk of walking every day. But somehow, I've gained 10 pounds.

Something is messed up somewhere.

So now I get to be a gym bunny. Yuck. I get to pay someone scads of cash so I can subject myself to what amounts to torture devices. Huzzah.

A regular day lately (foodwise) has been:
Wake up at 5.
Low-fat granola bar on the train to get myself rolling, around 6:15.
Around 7 (just getting to work), a can of pop (yeah, empty calories. Convince Jolt to make a diet that doesn't taste like shit, and I'll drink that instead) for the caffeine.
Another granola bar or a gackbar (slimfast milk chocolate peanut tastes almost like a tiger's milk bar, and is quite edible.) around 10, since I'm miserable by then.
Lunch at 1:30, usually a sandwich, (no mayo, no onion, no tomato) or a burrito (no guac (eeww), no salsa, just a bit of cheese, refried beans, lots of rice, yummy chopped up steak) from the place down the street.
Get home around 5:15, starving. Snag something from the fridge: a pickle, a bagel, leftovers from last night's dinner, a popcicle.
Dinner anywhere between 6:30 - 8:30, could be anything. Usually meat, but not always. Lots of pasta. Last night was a tuna sandwich with lots of pickle on rye.
10:30, go to bed.
Repeat until the weekend. Food changes too much to quantify. Today it's been a bagel with peanut butter, 2 toaster-waffles, an orange popscicle, and an orange. Got up at 8:30, it's currently 4:22. Dinner is likely to have artichokes somewhere in it.

Monday nights I go dancing with my friends; I have one drink (more empty calories, but I get bouncy from it, which helps with the dancing), usually dance for several songs (depends on the music; if it's too fast, I won't even try, and if I don't like it/don't know it, I won't dance.) And yes, dancing is good excercise.

In there, I walk from my house to the train (4 blocks), from the train to work (about the same distance, maybe a bit more), up two flights of stairs (at least twice daily; once in the morning, once coming back from lunch. If I have to go to the post office, or to pick something up, it's more.) I repeat the distance going home. It's not a LOT of excercise, but it's a good amount. Enough to wear out a few pairs of shoes.

So why am I gaining?

It isn't muscle mass. I haven't gotten any smaller. This sucks.

Why does it have to be so hard for me to be just like everyone else? I mean, yeah, the hair and clothing is my fault, but physically I'm no different from anyone else. (Well, the fact that I get over sicknesses quickly isn't like everyone else, but having a hyperactive immune system is nothing to complain about.)

I'm just terribly frustrated by all of this. If I eat any less than I've been doing, I literally get sluggish and can't think clearly (tried it; strafed my productivity, and I was very groggy until I ate something), which leads me to belive that I'm eating as little as I can get away with. I'm tired when I get home and don't want to excercise (forcing myself to go to the club though. It's gotta be done.)

So where is the problem? Why am I relagated to sisophean bicycles and staircases? Why am I climbing into modern versions of the Rack?

Have I mentioned this sucks? Well, it does. I just want to wake up tomorrow morning weighing 150 pounds. It'd be fun making a new wardrobe. but I don't want to suffer to get there. If something isn't fun, why do it? You only go around once, why make it worse than it needs to be?

I wish I could just stop eating. Anorexia sounds pretty damn useful. Then, I'd just need a job where I didn't need my brain, so it wouldn't matter if I get all cloudy.