It was a terrible and forgettable book by Stephen King, but describes my current situation. In the past two days, I've lost about six pounds and I'm not even trying! I know, I know-I'm on a perpetual quest to lose as much weight as possible and increase my "fly in a bikini" quotient, but this is different. I feel light headed, but I'm not hungry. I eat at about 10:30am (two JIB tacos) and again at dinner.
At first, I thought that maybe I was sick (diabetes, thyroid issue), but I don't feel sick. I just feel exhausted. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was stressing myself over this whole post-Slamdance letdown mess. You know, as I type it out, I do believe that's precisely what's wrong. Life is passing me by, the world may very well end tomorrow and I wouldn't have completed what I believe is my life's work. I'm going to take a nap.
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