That lasted a long time.

I ate a ton.  I feel so gross.  1663 calories.  And most of it was crap.  So what had happened was...

E and I went to the thrift store, where I bought a pair of jeans a size too small.  I will make them fit before the end of the school year.  My 12's are comfortable.  Too comfortable.  After the thrift store, we went to Starbucks.  (Skinny Iced Caramel Macchiato, 140).  We went to the park, and sat by a creek with our drinks and just talked.  After that, we swung on the swing sets for a while.  I feel like that's a good leg workout... I'll have to incorporate that into my routine somehow.  Anyways.  We went out to eat, and I way underestimated the calories in my meal.  I don't care if it's the only vegetarian entrée on the menu.  Never again.  I'm ashamed to even mention the calorie count.  E and I purged at her house, because we're crazy, and I went home a few hours later.  Hopped on the treadmill and refused to get off for nearly an hour and a half (523). Made my sister pancakes and a smoothie, and got away with only eating a tiny tester pancake.  Ugh.

So yeah.  That resolution to health went well.  Really fucking well.  I just spent the last hour crying in my closet about T, too.  I can feel my mental health slipping away.  I think I'm just going to go to bed before my night can get any worse.  I'm not making any goals for tomorrow.  I can't stand to let myself down again.