Radioactive

We got burnt just a bit too crisp last night, I'm afraid. Although I'm doing a pretty good job of covering it up. And I have some stripes, which will look great with my gown. Curses on my brilliant idea of going to the ghetto tanning place just because it was convenient. I see a stand-up bed in my immediate future, and after the swelling goes down. JK

Therapy today was oddly therapeutic, although, after taking a long break, you always have to rehash things you really thought you were over. And you probably were. But, hey. I cried for the first time in weeks, but realized that all in all, I'm doing pretty well with all this stuff. I'm coping while not fabulously, better than most. As Aunt Nancy is fond of saying: "It's a wonder you're not a serial killer."

At this stage in the game, most brides are a couple weeks into their starvation plan, but I've been nothing but hungry for literally days straight. Am I not getting enough sleep? Probably not, but hey. I want everything in sight: Fries, pizza, cookies. Luckily, I've only been eating reallllllly truly bad stuff about once a week. But does the seconds of vegetarian stir-fry from last night count? No, but I guess the skittles kind of do. Oy.