Maybe its the winter months or the anxiety about tattooing or all that other crap, but staying with eating clean and working out has been especially hard. Not hard as in “Fuck I dont wanna do it but have anyway” but more like “fuck, I forgot to work out again for the 7th day in a row. And why is there a refined carb in my hand?!”

Fuck. Get it together, Tyrone Leslie! Resetting my circadian rhythm in preparation for my apprenticeship has been tough as well. And I’m starting to wonder if I truly have the fucking thing at all. Not exactly super informed by my “teacher” over here. About two weeks ago I got a “Sorry I am having difficulty opening a shop” message on FB from him. Ah, okay thats cool and I definitely get it. But did I say something wrong in my reply that I trust him and figured he knew what he was doing and would wait? I left a message on his page about some joking “voodoo for the shop” that got baleeted. Did I fuck up somewhere without realizing it? And its not like I can ask, I dont wanna bug him. Also, pressure to move, my rent is spiking on the 1st, my NEW SCALE also seems as weird as the last one and both food weighing devices have randomly stopped working. Well, the one Eddie gave me is broken, but the usual suspect just needs new overly specialized batteries. And I dont know what to do with myself in the morning but lay on my bed like a tired zombie.

In short, all of this shit is ruining my weight loss efforts. Especially this month and the last, though the scale said AI lost 4 pounds BUT WHO KNOWS IT COULD BE WONKY. One day it said I weighed 300. The next? 289. So what the fuck is going on here.

The walls are closing in on me. My rashes are coming back, the special cysts too. But I did in the midst of all this have my first quasi normal period in what…3-4 years?

It lasted 8 days and ended without a single day of spotting. Marvelous. And its been two weeks since, so we’ll see if it gives itself anotherĀ  2 weeks before showing up again and I actually complete a 28 day cycle without digging in the old OB box, or if its just a fluke.

The walls are closing in on me.

I resolve to a two week challenge right this instant, though I feel like paranoid shit:

Walk away the pounds once a day, no exceptions. Teice if I feel inspired. Or strength training.

No more “off” days and forgetting to log certain foods. I guess I’ll be battery shopping soon or using the measuring cup more in the mean time.

Fuck the scale until Friday and then I will bring it downstairs here on the cement and see what it tells me on steady, solid ground. Until then, shunning it.

6 glasses of water a day. 8 is proving difficult. Crawling before I walk.

1500 calorie days. To inspire function.

Bed by 3:30am.

And now, to nap.