Oh! Riiiiiiiiiiight.

God! I wish I could read....

"Shit adds up at the bottom."
~ Maynard James Keenan

Haha! I just got a text from my friend Dee:

“The movie quotes are all hilarious, Kage, but what about your fucking weigh in?!”

Oh! Riiiiiiiiiight. I guess everyone’s wondering if I’m still in the Eating Disorders program?! And if I'm not, am I now wandering the streets of some random city, babbling about stupid movie quotes and holding a Denny’s restaurant up at gunpoint. (For their food. I’m not an animal.)

So’s! Monday morning came along, and Kagie was scaaaaaaared. So she drank LOTS of coffee before going to program, and refused to void her bladder until after weigh in. Which sounds like fun, but is actually just a little bit uncomfortable.

But definitely more comfortable than ramming a roll of loonies up the shazzer, am I right, people?

...................

...................................

...um..........hello?

Sorry, sorry. One would assume more comfortable than a ramming roll of loonies up the shazzer.

Anyway, I ate brekkers at hop-sital with the other anorexics Monday morning, and squeezed in two more cups of tea before our alloted time was up. Then I sat in the lounge with the other girls to wait for my weigh in. I was just vibrating with the need to pee, and had my arms wrapped around my lower body in a subconscious effort to keep it from exploding - though every time a nurse would pass, I would stretch my arms behind my head, and grin loftily.

“Morning!” I would say brightly, then bend back over in agony when the coast was clear.

“Green Room’s empty,” our prettiest anorexic, the Beautiful Cutter, announced a few minutes later, when she finally returned to the lounge.

“I’M NEXT!” I yelled, and waddled desperately out of the room before any other anorexic could even THINK about getting up.

I straightened up again as I opened the door that led to the offices, and walked casually down the hallway towards the green nurse’s room. Please God, please God, please God, I prayed silently, behind my mask of calm. I don’t wanna get kicked out for losing weight. I’ll try harder. Oh, and please don’t let me die of urine poisoning? So gross.

I quickly changed into my paper robe and opened the door a fraction for the nurse, then did a little pee pee dance as I waited for her to appear. Oh God, this was definitely my dumbest idea ever, I decided, trying to manually hold my bladder inside my body.

PattyCakes finally showed up. I quickly dropped my hands and tried to look charming. “Morning, girlfriend!” I said, overly brightly.

She looked up from her clipboard, stunned.

Ooooh, right. I’m the hateful one.

The urine was going to my fucking BRAIN.

“How was your weekend, Kage?” she asked me suspiciously.

“Oh, good, you know, the usual, haha!” I said cheerfully, still fidgeting madly. “Can’t wait to get started on another week of treatment! Boy, I’m pumped to get started! Aren’t you? Pumped to get started? Let’s get started!”

“Kaaaaaaay,” she said, and before she could even turn on the power, I was standing on the scale.

“Kage? Can you get off for a sec?” she said pointedly. “I have to turn it on.”

“Oh!” I said, stepping back reluctantly. FUCK! my bladder screamed.

“There we go, now you can-”

“Done!” I cried.

I looked down at the scale.

59.6 kgs.

Last time I was 59.9 kgs.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, as Green Nurse walked in.

Greenie looked at the scale, and then at the chart. “What?” she asked.

“Whadya mean, what?” I snapped, stepping off the scale.

“You’re on track with your weight recovery,” she said with a shrug.

I cocked my head, a la puzzled dog. “What?! But I thought-”

Abruptly, I shut up.

“You thought what?” Greenie asked.

“Nothing,” I smiled brightly.

Silence.

 PattyCakes narrowed her eyes. “Okay, then,” she said slowly. “You can get dressed, Kage.” And with a quick, suspicious sniffing of the air around me, both nurses left me alone again.

I dressed quickly, then waddled down the hall towards the bathroom, moaning intermittently. Please let me make it to the bathroom, God, I thought desperately. Please. I promise I will never wear my Naughty Nun costume ever again. EVER. I swear.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I cannot explain the BLISS that that pee brought me. I really can’t. No, like seriously, you just don’t know what you’re missing out on. I highly recommend giving it a whirl, if you have nothing else to do at anorexia treatment one morning. Really, give it a go. Then get back to me, let me know how it was.

When I was finished crying in the bathroom stall, I picked myself up off the floor, washed my hands, and went to my locker to retrieve Mr. Reznor (my iPod). Time to be serious. Something was definitely off - how could I be ‘on track with my weight recovery’ if I had lost weight since last week?

“Morning, baby,” I murmured to Mr. Reznor, taking a moment to fondle my iPod in a sexually inappropriate manner before I sought out his calculator. Then I jabbed in that morning’s numbers to find out what was going on.

59.6 x 2.2. What that make, Mr. Reznor? I asked him. (Yes, I talk to my iPod like it’s the real Trent Reznor, so what. Piss off, I'm lonely.)

Hey, Kage, he greeted me. You are so beautiful, I can’t wait to have sex with you. Anyway, your weight is 131.12 lbs.

Huh? I thought. I know you’re a beautiful and flawless sex beast, Trent, but that can’t be right.

Sorry, but it is. You’ve just been so busy with your urine poisoning, you messed up your numbers from last week. You weren’t 59.9, you were 58.9.

No fucking way! I thought. Really?

Yup, Mr. Reznor nodded (as much as an iPod can).

Wait a minute, I thought. Does that mean...

Yup, he said.

...I didn’t have to...

Nope, he said.

...HOLD MY FUCKING BLADDER ALL GODDAMN MORNING?!?!?!?!?!?!

Nope, Mr. Reznor said.

I moaned loudly and let my forehead slam heavily into my locker. “Ow,” I cried miserably.

Why? WHY DON'T I EVER FUCKING LEARN ANYTHING?!

Deal's off, God, ya dick, I thought bitterly. I can’t WAIT to wear my Naughty Nun costume again! 

In fact, I think I’ll wear it to treatment tomorrow.


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