Another year, another family holiday. It was actually good fun, in spite of all the arguments, though I feel a little detached from Fenny and Pop, which makes me a little sad. Had a bit of a meltdown in bed last night, but I also saw Charlotte yesterday, and we went shopping for this weekend. The dress I've got is really nice - I'm just worried I'll be a little overdressed. But, then again, I was last year, so I guess it doesn't matter. And we are staying in a hotel and going to the theatre, after all. I guess two years is quite a long time, really.
I got home with Dan after I'd been ill, and I still wasn't eating right. Weighed myself on the Saturday.
50kg.
I wasn't quite sure how to react. I've never reached my goal weight before. I was a little upset, a little confused, a little happy. I still don't know how I feel about it. Anyway, I ate far too much on holiday and promptly gained a pound. I blame all the croissants.
Still. Jesus Christ. Am I happy or not?
I really don't know.