"We hope vaguely, we dread precisely."

Title quote by Paul Valéry.  I've been anxious all day because I forgot to weigh myself.  By the time I remembered, I'd already had a few glasses of water.  Oh well.  T gave me half his latte, and I gulped the delicious horrid thing down before I even stopped to consider that he didn't order it fat-free.  Of course he didn't.  Worked it off and then some at the gym.  But dinner was too big, and I'm still 37 calories over.  That's remedied easily enough with a set of calisthenics, though.  I'll have a net under 700, but I'm supposed to be eating under 700, not netting.  Fuck.  Why can't I just restrict properly?  I won't be too hard on myself, but ugh.  I feel so uncomfortable in my skin today.  I'm just expanding expanding expanding.  I feel scratchy and hot.  I want to peel away the layers of fat and make myself clean.

I spent $30 of my dwindling food fund on 3 large tins of really nice tea.  Now I won't have enough food money to eat out this weekend.  Which means that the weekend will be a virtual fast since the cafeteria isn't open.  Score.  The bookstore here sells a brand of tea that's not available in my hometown, so I'm stocking up.  Tea is filling and calorie free.  I can never get enough.

I'm trying so hard to be positive.  Last night I had an anxiety attack that left me sobbing on the floor while A did her best to comfort me.  Everything is too much.  I just sit around and listen to Brand New and The Smiths and wait for the world to implode.