Monday, August 5, 2013

I Don't Understand Today

Watch out, this is a long one.
It's 10 am and I'm already this confused about the world?

Woke up at 5:45 to get ready for this intensive. Weight was 141 because I was a fat pigbitch and had nuts and raisins last night.

Ate breakfast (450 calories. I hated every moment of eating it, but hey, six hours of dance burns at least 1500 calories. Actual estimates say 1800-2400, but that seems too high, so I always assume 250/hour, or 1500 for six hours).
Now, here's the thing. I don't drive. So, no problem, I'm in a city, I'll take the bus to the intensive. In theory, I'd take a bus from my neighborhood to downtown and have ten minutes to walk about two blocks and catch a second bus out to the studio.
Yeah, well.
Caught the first bus at 7:15. Right on time. Was supposed to get off at 7:45. Except at 7:45 we had barely hit downtown. Didn't get to my stop until 8:10. Found where I was supposed to catch the next bus (it's now 8:15) except, oh wait, it's detoured MORE than what the bus's website claims. It doesn't hit downtown AT ALL anymore! I can take the subway out to where I could catch the next one, except when I get there (8:20), the next subway I can take will get me where I need to be just in time to miss the next bus, meaning I won't get to the studio until about 9:30 when I was supposed to be there at 8:30.
Yeah. I don't do late. I REFUSE to be late. Hell, I specifically took an earlier bus than I (should have) needed to just to get to the studio 20 minutes early!
But couldn't I be late just this once and explain?
Here's the thing: I emailed the intensive director three months after auditions asking to be let in. She did, and gave me a full scholarship because I took from her in highschool and she remembered me. Favor Number One.
I never sent in the scholarship acceptance/registration forms that I was supposed to have sent in two weeks ago, so they didn't actually know I was coming. I was going to turn them in today and hope for the best. Favor Number Two.
Add being an hour later to that? No. Unacceptable.
So instead, I came home. Took a bus that dropped me off a mile away so I'd have to walk a bit (because, oh yeah, I have those 450 calories of breakfast in me FOR NO REASON now).
It's okay. Not going to this intensive means that I can play caretaker for my grandmother and give my mom and aunts a break.
My grandma was in the hospital last Thanksgiving and has needed an oxygen tank and near-24 hour care since then. Whenever I'm home on break, I do it. I don't mind. It gives my mom and aunts a break, which is great for them. It's just... so DULL. She needs help getting out of bed, dressed, and downstairs, then she usually doesn't need anything until she goes back to bed at night. But she can't be left alone--she's not very strong anymore, could fall easily, and can't reach her oxygen if she needs to turn it up. So it's important that someone be there, it's just that 90% of the time that person is just sitting on the couch, watching whatever daytime television show she's decided to turn on.
And if that person is me, it also involves her telling me to eat. And eat. And eat.

So this was all going through my mind as I was walking home. How I had breakfast, how I was going to get fat from a) not dancing b) not being able to exercise because I can't leave her alone and c) having food forced on me. I was near panic with the thought of how much weight I'd gain.

And then.

I got home.

I emptied my bladder, stripped down, and weighed myself again (because I have a nasty habit of stepping on the scale every time I'm in the bathroom).

...139.5
It didn't register.
I stared at the number.
I stepped off the scale.
Moved it over a tile.
Back on.
139.5
Off again.
On again.
139.5

So. I guess I'm 139.5. Huh. 2 pounds down since Saturday.
I told you, today's been a real head scratcher.
(Now I just need to keep this up while I'm gone.)

2 comments:

  1. 141 at 5.45am? i'd call that a success 'cause you're still carrying some variant of water weight as far as im concerned.
    six hours. of dancing. SIX HOURS. of fucking dancing.
    450 calories is not a lot by my standard at all.
    well that fucking sucks.
    omg 139.5! congrats!

    -Sam Lupin

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  2. yay below 140!
    (did i mention i don't drive either? scary thoughts)

    ReplyDelete