55 kilos. Making me sad. But before I get depressing, I'm going to get me some breakfast and march my sad ass out of here, turn a right, and go climb the emergency stairs. Vigorously so. And damn me if I'm not going to create the meanest calorie deficit EVER. Time to get serious.
F is doing this thing with her mum: they weigh the food at every big meal they eat and make sure it's 300 gr or something. I wish I had the guts to ask my mum to do something like that with me. MUR HURR.
But I'm... writing again? #pathetic
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Gimme some lovin'! Or, y'know, whatever keeps you floating...