The Me Project: Day 1

Had to buy new batteries for my scale yesterday. (Here’s a handy tip: don’t store a box of books on top of an electronic scale — it wears out the batteries.) Was dreading actually getting on the thing. Figured I probably weighed 15 more pounds or so more than I did when I last weighed myself on it. But I actually weigh about 15 pounds less than I did when I last weighed myself. So, I’m starting out 30 pounds closer to my goal than I thought I was going to. Sad to say that 30 pounds is just a drop in the bucket.

Now I just need to clean my fridge and buy some real food.

Musique du jour:

Coldplay’s “Viva la Vida”, Cyndi Lauper’s “Into the Nightlife”, and Tokio Hotel’s Scream album

Word of the day:

Scheiße (“shit” in German)
Flows more easily off the tongue than, say, “merde” or my previous choice, “shite”.

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Distress-fueled dreams

I have weird dreams if I’m uncomfortable when I’m sleeping. I have nightmares if I’m in pain, especially if my head hurts.

Last night, I had nightmares for the first time in ages, dreams involving the very graphic evisceration and eating of human captives. I don’t ever wake up screaming, but those kind of dreams always kick me into the waking world quite suddenly. Told myself not to go back into the dream when I went back to sleep so ended up dreaming instead of my brother trying to re-enact some stunt, covered in fake blood — fairly mild except that my brother in the dream had had his legs amputated after some prior incident and the image of him covered in the fake blood was really gruesome. It kicked me awake again. Then I dreamed that Scottish comedian Billy Connolly (I have no idea where he came into my head from at all since I haven’t even read about him in ages) and I moved in together, a scandalous act apparently that got me fired from my job. There were also dreams about cults, espionage, and cats. It was tiring. And I still feel nauseous.