...But then I woke up.
Gotcha there, didn't I? So I've been fasting for 44 hours now, and I'm still going strong. Day 3 is usually one of the hardest days though, right? That's tomorrow.
Anyway. I was serious before. This morning while I turned off my alarm and snoozed for half an hour, I dreamt that I was being force fed with pizza. By one of the extremely few persons I like in this world. Actually, he's my favorite person of all. He's the only person I ever fell in love with, and I haven't felt different in 3 years. I've almost won him over about 2 times now, but as for the time being, we're just friends. Alas, if I can only get that job we'll be moving out together this summer. As friends. But I'm ok with even that, because I like him so much merely as a person.
But yeah, he might be the only one I couldn't refuse if it came down to it, and he asked if I wanted pizza (hahah, my mother just called downstairs this very moment IRL. "Do you want pizza?" I replied "No thanks.") and when I said no, he fed it to me. I was so upset because I broke the MSF, and I woke up with a sweaty forehead. Glad it was a dream.

But then again, he'd probably want to split money for dinner. Hm.
But if the MSF works (no, when it works) I will have laid a great foundation for being happy with myself and healthy.

The weaker I feel, the stronger I am. Come to me, dizziness, come to me weightloss.

No comments:
Post a Comment