Chronicles of a Corporate Intern

I am about to break the rules of womanhood.

But I'm dating my friend's ex and watch Sex & the City in Carhartts over pizza and beer, so I'm okay with that.

I weigh 97 pounds.
90 fucking 7 pounds.
Do you have any idea how bloody tiny that makes me?

Before this whole sick thing came about I was up to 113.
My formerly tight jeans now fit me almost loosely. (They're the smaller end of size 0... I'm going to have to go back to girl sizes soon.)

But that isn't really what this is about - this is about the fact that I can't talk to anyone about it.

I'm seriously concerned about myself right now and I can't talk to any of my friends about it.
Seriously, wtf?

I tried to last night, the conversation turned out something like this:
"So... I've been losing weight."
"Me too! I'm so excited."
"I'm kind of worried about it, if I lose much more weight I'm going to cease to exist."
"Hahaha, with a mouth like yours you'll never cease to exist, you'll always been in someone's face arguing with them about something and trying to make them do it your way."

Yeah, great, thanks.
Oh well, I tried.

Has the world really come down to that? A generation of women so obsessed with being skinny that they are blind to health risks and jealous of those who lose weight to pain and suffering such as I have?

I have heard, so many times lately, "You've been losing weight? Maybe I ought to get me some of that disease you've got."

Sure, you can have it, I'll go ahead and be fat.

Labels: I'm Female, Sick