Suffice it to say you may never TRULY know how big your waist is until one day when you have to make your own rainbow-colored-tutu for the clown costume you decided to go with for Halloween. Holy Jesus, is that thing ever huge. Many hours and many yards of brightly colored tulle later, and all I can say about the technicolor monstrosity that is literally eating up my closet is that at least there's no chance anyone else will show up with the same costume.
Once again I went way overboard on Halloween. We decided to do this whole circus theme for the department at work, and while I'm WAY over-excited for the whole thing, I can't tell if my enthusiasm is GOOD because it gives me lots of shit to do which means my hands are busy with hot glue guns and glittery things and not idly stuffing fun-sized snacks into my mouth or BAD because it leaves me no time to cook, clean, eat right or have real meals. I will call it a toss-up since I'm maintaining my fatness, but at least I'm not gaining, which is pretty good for my all-time favorite holiday and handy excuse to binge eat Heath bars.
I'll post some pictures later of my whole rainbow clown get-up. Imagine a float in the Gay Pride Parade on LSD, basically. Only fatter.
In other news, my therapist has cancer and that is a fucking bummer! I had to skip two weeks of therapy because of my crappy new schedule at work and then I get this letter in the mail telling me she'll be out of the office for at least 3 months due to ongoing radiology treatments. That sucks, man. Aside from my own selfish reasons of being like I NEED YOU THERE TO HELP ME AND FORCE HUG ME EVERY TUESDAY, LADY, there's also the sense of sadness that comes from actually caring because she's such an oddly nice person that I feel genuinely bad that she has to go through this. Whoa, look at me, caring about other people and shit. It's like a whole new Tricia. Only fatter.
I hope she'll get through it and get back in there to deal with my selfishness soon. I sure don't wanna have to look for another therapist, but seeing as how I took the very last Prozac today, I guess I got no choice. I hope the new one's not an asshole because he/she's gonna have freakishly long but really skinny and nice shoes to fill, ya know?
Sorry I'm not around much. I never wanted to become one of those blogger people who comes back like every couple months and leaves some shitty update just to disappear again, but mostly I just don't have things to write about. Most days just seem okay. I feel like some fraud being part of this whole dieting blog community knowing damn well I don't diet or blog very often, but it's still nice to have here for when I feel like I wanna talk. So if you're still here, thanks for hanging in there and maybe one day it'll be better.
Up with hope, down with dope, etc.
