I don’t know how much I weigh. Flesh Wizard told me last night that I’m “looking like a skinny fucker,” which seems kind of mean, but it sounded vaguely jealous, so I took it as a compliment. Other than that, I have no information whatsoever as to my current weight. This is unreasonably scary to me.
This week has been way better, diet-wise, though. I ate 2-3 times, every day. A super accomplishment for a man with boobs, I know, but I’m pretty proud. After Monday's update, I got shit from multiple people about not eating enough. It’s kind of funny that "not eating" is a sign of a dietary backslide. I mean, I agree with them; it’s really dumb to not eat if you’re trying to lose weight. On the other hand, I cannot begin to explain how good it feels. I really can’t. I spent 20 minutes rewriting this sentence before I gave up. Not being a complete slave to hunger, or food, or whatever chemical god controls that part of my brain, makes my eyes brighter. I don’t know.