Back it comes, from the darkness into which it vanished...

So, I just got back from a much-needed week long vacation. The trip was GREAT, but honestly, I'm glad to be home.

Yes, I failed that class.

Yes, I have to show up to the first session of the class I want to take next quarter and beg the prof to sign me in.

A little sneak peak at a longer post tomorrow...

My birthday is coming up. It is a big one. Some rules need to be established.
I need to get my shit together for school. Details on my fuckery and plan to fix it.
I have some medical problems that need attention. C'mon, I know you want to know more about my boring personal shit.

In closure, I went grocery shopping today because there is nothing fresh in your house when you get home after a week away. No, I didn't have a bunch of nasty stuff, I got rid of everything before we left. I had to go alone because DH was dealing with some branches that had fallen in the front yard (crazy storms here this week). My normal store recently closed, so I have been trying out new ones to see where I like going. The place I went was super awful, confusing and noisy and surly staff and generally stressful. Grocery shopping is a high-risk activity for me anyway, so...

I binged between one store (the one I go to for fresh stuff) and another (the one I go to for certain odd-ball staples that we like). The tally?

2 Dove chocolate bars
2 Starbucks apple fritters
2 Starbucks mini birthday cake donuts
1 Starbucks chocolate mini donut
1 McDonald's double filet-o-fish sandwich
Lots of diet coke to wash it all down (Seriously? Why diet coke with a binge? I guess that's why they call it a disorder, because it doesn't make sense.)

The outcome?
Hehe, outcome. See, that's funny because it came out. Nothing like yakking in a public restroom. I figured that if anyone asked if I was ok, I could lie and say it was morning sickness. 'Cuz nobody questions pregnant ladies. Oh, and then, since I felt pressed for time in the Trader Joe's bathroom and couldn't finish, I purged some more when I got home.

"Honey, would you go bring in the rest of the stuff in the car? I need to use the bathroom. Specifically, I need you to go outside for a minute so you won't hear me retching."

Quality.

In lighter news, I managed to eat more-or-less like a sane person on the trip. So that's good. I'm interested to weigh myself tomorrow morning and see how it compares to pre-trip weight. Also, after the snarf-and-barf, I went outside and walked for close to an hour. Lots of nice hills. So, all is not lost.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Why Do I Love This?

So, today I got up. I made myself a nice breakfast and ate it. Then I ate a handful of chocolate covered almonds. After that, I made a family-sized batch of brownies in the microwave and ate about half of it.

Soon after I went into the bathroom and puked it all up. I know I got it "all" because I weighed less after barfing than I did when I got up this morning. I felt clean and empty and amazing.

Why do I love this? It's so sick. Sigh. Off to the gym to work out.

That's Better

All out, and a nice shower. I feel *so* much better.

What brought this on? Well, my husband and I had a bit of a bad situation last night. He had a panic attack and we went to bed feeling all wierd. Since we had not had a chance to talk yet, things were still not resolved this afternoon. I over-did it at the gym (go figure) and then I binged. And barfed.

He's home now. Things are better. Why did I eat because I felt bad? It's not as if I'm not aware that it only makes me feel shittier.