I feel like I want to dictate to everyone how my body feels, just because it's been so long since I've felt it. My legs were hurting yesterday, sore, the calves and thighs complaining as I walked, and I couldn't help but wonder, "What the hell is wrong with them?" Then when I woke up this morning after only four hours of sleep, with vivid, strange dreams, and a pain behind my eyes that made my face feel tender, I suddenly realized what it was.
It's from restricting.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Then popped two excedrin, an adderall, and ate. Cocoa Puffs and a piece of 50 cal bread with a tablespoon and a half of peanut butter. Yes, it's a huge amount of food, but the quick feeding of the headache is gonna help to prevent it from hitting full grown migraine and causing an all out binge later.
Heading off to job at the gym for my final day of new hire training before I get to start my first real shift tomorrow before and after my regular job. After today, I'm going to take a small nap, and then finish up laundry and the like.
Also, last night out with the friend was good. Out of all the six of us, me and her were the skinniest, and I found out I weighed less than her, but her height put her at even proportions as it did with me. I didn't eat or drink anything, including water. I apparently was srsly liked, and was told that I was "Hardcore", because I was late meeting them..... Late because some guy filched my wallet, so I chased his ass down. A 4'11 black haired girl with a red girly shirt and blue jeans, a purse, and a flowery clip in her hair, chasing down some tweaker through a major tourist spot screaming "GIVE ME BACK MY WALLET YOU FUCKING DICK!" Guy got grabbed by security, I got my wallet back, and didn't bother to file a police report. I miss the old days, when the guards out here worked for the mob, and would just break somebodies fucking fingers for messing with the visitors of their fine establishments. Crime was so much less of a mess back then.
Still, apparently, that impressed them. I don't see why.
You shouldn't just stand there as someone steals away your identity. It's the principle of the thing. If you're going to fuck up my life by taking my ID, bank cards, and my armed security guard card, I'm going to run you down and kick the shit out of your head, or get myself shot. Either way, I won't feel like a helpless victim. I'll feel like I fought.
Then I had someone ask for my number. One of the guys at the place who witnessed the chase down. He was working valet, and he bypassed a Plastic Fantastic Barbie to get me my car first, and went away, but ran back right as i put in drive, and got all flustered, and asked if he could have my number. Actually forgot to ask for a name, and just looked like he was trying to be suave, but had no idea how. I thought it was adorable, so I just gave it to him (and my name) and sort of just thought, "Damn...this could end bad. I wish you had tits...." But the fact that he turned away from two glamorous blonds who looked like they belonged in playboy or on one of the TV shows they film out here to take care of me first...?
I giggled all the way home.