Please, make them stop.
I woke up at 7:47am. 7:47 is my favorite time of day because the Boeing 747-800 is my favorite kind of airplane. But 7:47am was not a good minute for me this morning.
I had another nightmare. A nightmare like the ice cream one, only this one was much, much worse.
I can't remember any of it except for this part: I was standing on a scale. It was like the one on The Biggest Loser, with this humongous screen where it shows the number. And I was looking at the screen thinking it won't be that bad... but then the number flashed and it was BAD! And then I woke up.
Today I really don't want to eat. That number scared the shit out of me!! And it's not like it was a number that was totally preposterous for someone my height to weigh. It wasn't at all. But I don't want to weigh that much.
So I've carefully calculated the number of calories I'll allow myself for the day. I have to teach Zumba tonight so I can't fast, unfortunately. Zumba and fasting don't mix well. Or at all, actually. But I've cut out all unneccessary calories and fat from my meal plan for today. It allows for 308cal by the time I leave for Zumba (at 5:40pm) unless I start running a fever again, in which case it allows for 438cal. (A rise in core body temperature causes a rise in BMR.) And then I just have to eat as little as possible (or nothing at all) for dinner. That should keep that number away.
My therapist will be none too happy, but hey, she didn't have that nightmare. I did.
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