Ok... I am really fucking fighting the goddamn nausea now to get back into the swing of things this morning. I got up at 6, dressed for workout, did a load of laundry, read blogs/g+ stuff, made and drank coffee and tea, and am now sipping some more tea (jasmine), hoping the fucking nausea will pass.
I really need to wash my hair, and the only way I'm going to get to do it is to get in the shower. And the only way to force myself into the shower is to get on the treadmill. My goal is only 2mi as I'm just starting again to make it a habit again. My alarm will go off at 10.30am, the time that's supposed to be the latest that I should allow myself to start exercising. The end of the lazy little shit period. I don't think I'm going to make it, but I'm going for 11 or 11.30 at the latest.
Fuck it. I should feel better soon. I had a piece of a baguette from yesterday's trip in the snow to the store. Saltines and more water will be my next move. Yuck.
Mmmm... now. Fuck. Fuck Fuck!!!
I don't want to start a week failing at anything that I need/want to do. I'm afraid that everything will go downhill from there. I've got a shrink appointment on Wednesday to get anxious over! I can't let shit just go from fucking bad to worse. The snowball of shit effect! Damn. Just writing that turned my stomach.
Yes, so it's saltines and water. Fuck! Motherfucking FUCK!
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No! Fuck! I won't let it get to me!
Edit:
I swore like a sailor, got disgusted and angry with my meds side effects and said FUCK YOU, I'm gonna do it! Fuck you! So I made it to the treadmill with enough time to watch "Supernatural", lose track of time by concentrating on the show as much as I could, and reached my goal. Fuck Yeah!
Oh, and I do plan on eating some spinach later.
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