Spoke too soon...

Today was a bad day. 

I didn't really sleep last night, and I can't tell you why, other than I was too fucking cold, so I couldn't get to sleep until after 3 (I didn't think to heat up my warm-thing until around 2). Then I woke up early cuz my tummy was rumbling, but I stayed in bed and tried to get a little extra sleep instead of having breakfast (this is common).

Then, I had to get ready in a bit of a hurry because I had a lunch meeting in Bellevue. As I was leaving, the Emperor said "you look tired". I almost lost my mind. In fact, when I got into the car and started driving to my meeting, I may or may not have had a clip of Glenn Beck saying "I THINK I'M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND TODAY" playing in the back of my head. 

At my meeting, I decided that I was only going to have half my lunch and take the rest for my proper lunch date at 2pm (the one time every day where I make myself eat something), and I was not feeling like my usual bubbly self, so it was kind of difficult to talk to someone new, let alone eat near them. It was a little embarrassing.

When I got home, I pretty much gave up on the rest of the day, cuz I felt like sleep-deprived, cold-symptom-having, fat, horrible, stupid, stressed out shit. Upon trying to illicit some sympathy from the Emperor, we had a fight instead. Yaaaaay. He admitted being wrong, and I laid down in an attempt to nap or something, but instead ended up in this really bad mental place where I wanted to drive to McDonald's in my PJs, order and eat half the menu - or eat until I puked anyway. (At this point in my life, with the celiac and all, there's no way fast food doesn't make me sick.) I also wanted to go to Whole Foods and buy a bunch of comparatively safe junk food and eat until I puked. 

Instead I took a very angry nap, but continued to hate myself for thinking these things.

When I woke up I was desperately hungry. I had nachos with black olives and half an avocado. A normal-seeming amount of food, but it made me kinda blerg anyway. Later I had a small baked potato with butter and sour cream, then laid down again because through all of this, I'm still exhausted as shit. A little while later, the Emperor came in to bitch about some work thing that I don't understand, and I imagined myself running past him to throw up.

Later still I received a a gchat from someone who makes me feel broken, and continued hating myself.

Then, finally, (or I guess not, since I'm still up), the Emperor wanted to listen to the podcast from last week's Bill Maher. The arguing of right-and-left-wing hacks, the sound of people screaming over each other, trying to force-prove themselves right, made me leave the room, grab my blanket and frog and curl up on the bathroom floor, telling myself that if I really did need to purge, it was okay. It's not a moral failing if you purge, I told myself, this is going to take time. I didn't purge, instead I painted the nails whose polish I had anxiously scraped off throughout the day. I'm surprised I had the skill for it, though, because the yelling in the other room was making me shake.

At this point, I'm wound so tight, I'm starting to wish I had a propeller. I'm even refusing the affectionate cuddles of my dog (which is unusual and kind of heartbreaking, when I think about it objectively). I just want to hop in my TARDIS and run away... or become someone else...