Still waking up tired and feeling a bit rundown throughout the day. I don’t know what my problem is. I guess I was just that sick and it just takes that long to fully recover. I have to push myself to get things done, but I manage. Oddly enough, it’s been helping me to keep a schedule since I keep tiring down early. I woke up an hour earlier today and although I was still tired I was unable to fall back asleep.

The best news is that I finally got a hold of my Italian dad! I’d have called sooner had I not gotten so sick. The cell caused the usual shitty connection, and I think he may be hard of hearing and maybe a little out of it as well, but he was thrilled to hear from me. Again he thanked me for the letter, saying he’s got it on the mantel and is keeping it. He asked for the cell number and I gave it to him. I told him that although the other number was correct that I gave him, it can’t be used while we’re still living here. I promised to keep in touch and write regularly.

I had strange dreams throughout the night. In one I joined a band as the lead singer and promptly began doing drugs with the other band members. In another, I was living with my parents and awoke early one morning on a rainy, miserable day. I had to get up for work, though I don’t know where I was working. Some stupid minimum-wage job, I guess. I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was stay in bed. I said to my mother, “I wish jobs had never been invented. I just want to get back in bed and listen to the rainfall.” I half-hoped she would suggest I do just that, but she never said anything.

I’m making IHOP pastries filled with sweet cream now, and later on when Tom gets in from work I’ll make us pork chops. My appetite hasn’t returned entirely and I’m trying to keep it that way as long as I can and take advantage of my shrunken tummy. I’m limiting myself to 1000 calories a day and am down from 150 pounds to 142 pounds. Just maybe I’ll see the 130s again someday.