Writing didn't happen. Media didn't happen.
Exercise did happen, in the form of ALL THE STAIRS.
MY FUCKING ROOM IS FUCKING CLEAN.Didn't spend anything except paying my Etsy bill, but not for lack of trying—I want a complete set of Supernatural magazines, and I found on eBay a set of eight issues including six I don't have, auction ending a few hours ago, and I bid $60 which was the absolute most I could afford to spend today, and I was winning at numbers from $25 to $50 until the
last seven seconds. They went for $85. I'm currently trying to talk myself out of spending that $60 on five issues I don't have being sold individually on cinequest.com.
I am frowning at my food diary spreadsheet, and either my eyeball measurements are underestimating what I ate or I'm eating a lot less than the government guidelines say I should be. The first makes more sense because this was pretty much a normal day foodwise and if I were eating about what I should be I wouldn't be gaining weight. (I'm now in the upper end of what the BMI charts say is normal, which is twenty-five pounds above what my driver's license says and it was accurate when I got it, and fifteen to twenty pounds of that went on in the past year.)
Sleep nao.