Mild deception

"You look great!" was the first thing the nutritionist said at my appointment this morning, and I realized that a lime green dress against tan shoulders and a little yoga go a long way to hiding the fact that last night at 1:30 I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, hunched over a laptop, eating cheese sticks and Craisins and not in the least trying to sleep and not having an excuse not to, except for that craving I get most nights at 11 for an intangible that isn't food, although I like to throw food at it, which is just silly because Craisins (or cinnamon sugar by the spoonful or microwave popcorn) don't cure exhaustion or an undisciplined habit which, if I admitted it, only makes the craving worse because a tired girl who is forever tired might come off as a desperate girl who doesn't (know how to) make choices to make her more appealing, more chillaxing proactive, more forgiving, more focused, or more truly wanting to end it.