I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Saturday morning. Once again I've been seriously slacking in the frequency of my posts. I am always thinking of things I'd like to write about and then don't do it quickly enough so that everything's left my head when it comes time to put fingers to keys. I don't want to write lifeless entries (which might come as a surprise to some, given my past track record), so I just skip it entirely instead. Yet more evidence of the role that (an apparent lack of) moderation plays in my life.
In any case, I was in the middle of my weekly one on one meeting with my newest team member when my former manager walks in and tells me that the wife of a former colleague died earlier this week after a brief battle with cancer. Her husband and I did some really great work together and were so completely familiar with our project, it's foibles, and each other, that we did things that shouldn't have been possible on a regular basis. When he told me last year that he was resigning, I was crushed, although his replacement has done a really great job and I've since moved on to head a different team, so, I confess, I hadn't given him much thought of late. It was 1:45pm when I found out that the memorial service was at 4pm that same day - Friday night on a get-away holiday weekend. Gack! I talked to my supervisor (who totally rocks, by the way), told her what had happened, and she told me that, if I thought I could get home and changed in time to be there that I should leave immediately, which I did. I raced home, changed into a black jacket, chocolate long skirt, and chocolate accessories, dusted on some makeup, and ran. I made it with about four minutes to spare and I'll always be grateful that I did.
My first sight of my former co-worker was shocking. He looked so old. He never looked old when we worked together, although he's in his late 50s, but he did yesterday. When he hugged me tight and whispered softly, so that only I could hear it, "I hear you want to bribe me to come back," my heart just about broke. This was not the man I remember, not the man I knew. In the next 45 minutes, I came to know the woman who was his life through her friends, her family, and the head of her church. It turns out that she was an incredibly generous woman and there was something the pastor said that has stayed with me ever since. I can't remember the exact phrase but, essentially, what he said was this: what's important at the end of our lives is what we've given others. I listened to his words and, as I am wont to do at funerals, started reflecting on my own life so far. Not for the first time, I realized that I'm living a very selfish life. I have few friends, I don't leave the house much other than to go shopping (for me) or workout (for me), and I don't do any volunteer work at all. If I were to die tomorrow, what would my epitaph be? I don't really want to think about that, honestly, because I don't think I'd like the answer. Off the top of my head, though, "She had a lot more purses than any one woman should ever own," comes to mind.
So, what now? I've written down "become a volunteer for adult literacy" on my big To Do list for years now and have done not a thing toward making it a reality. Until today. I just finished sending my information to the San Diego Council on Literacy through VolunteerMatch. I'm really hoping that I'll be able to do a few hours every week and help adults and children learn to read. Throughout my life, I've been blessed with a love of books and reading, and I want to help others develop that same passion. No matter where you live or what your life is like, you can travel the world, travel through time, and expand your mind beyond the boundaries of your current world just by opening the cover of a book. What a very worthwhile reason to get out of my house, off of my duff, and start making a difference!
Thursday morning. This is sort of sad, really. I know that we all want the fashion industry to realize that women are not just the little, bitty things that they currently cater to, but I happen to be one of those that (when I'm not in my "boa constrictor who's just eaten an elephant" tummy mode) fits the hour glass shape and I've always loved showing it off. I know I'm in the minority with that and I really am pleased for everyone for whom this might mean smaller tailoring bills. Besides, no one has ever really designed for the hour glass anyway, no matter what the fashion industry might think. They design (essentially) for a flat chested woman with an absolutely flat stomach and hips where you can see the bones sticking out - no one that I know looks like that. I'd be happy if someone, somewhere actually did their designing for, say, a size 18 (American size) woman and then sized up and down from there to fill in the other sizes. At least then, those of us in the upper ranges (20 and on) would have a snowball's chance of getting something that fits us in the waist and doesn't look like MC Hammer pants from the waist down.
Thus ends today's rant. Unless, of course, something hoarks me off at work. I reserve the right to rant again if hoarked.
Wednesday morning. Well, it's been a really lovely morning already. Since it's the first day of a new month, I took my official weight and measurements to find that I've lost a whopping 2.2 pounds in the last month, 0.9% body fat (that's not bad), and gained 3/4" around my waist and abdomen. I've walked when I haven't felt like it, I've skipped eating a lot of stuff I've really, really wanted and I gained inches around my middle??? I'm so freakin' sick of this stupid stomach I could just scream! Gooooooooooooooooo awayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy stupid thing! Yes, I know that I ate too much at that buffet on Sunday and I had a bag of microwave popcorn on Monday and two homemade, nonfat muffins last night (100 calories each) but, surely, that's not enough to add almost an inch to my midsection, is it?
I'm so fed up with this whole game. Add activity, subtract food, pray, be pure of thought and deed and maybe, just maybe, you'll be rewarded with smaller numbers on the scale and the tape measure. However, do something - anything - to anger the weight loss powers that be and they'll knock you right back on your heels. Gah! I'm tired of it and I don't want to play anymore. You know, I think I could be really happy at this weight for a long time. How does that sound, stupid powers that be? Hmmm? What if I decided I'd had enough and wasn't going to play your stupid little games anymore? What then? Would you send plagues of locusts to my home?
I'm going to get my (fatter) self ready for work now. Demoralized, thy name is Denise.
Tuesday afternoon. Yesterday was a very stressful day for me here at VLSCI. Very. Veryveryveryveryvery stressful. People popping out of every crevice, projects cascading down on me like a pile of folded sweaters when you pull the size 3X at the bottom out, and emails out the ying ying. It was to the point where, as I made myself as small as possible while hiding underneath my desk, I was either going to snap and go seriously Exorcistic on some innocent team member or start to hyperventilate in the prelude to a full blown panic attack. I chose Door #3 - I ate an entire bag of popcorn. Old, faithful, mindless eating of mass quantities of food as anesthetic is something I'm not supposed to be doing in my new, improved, healthier lifestyle but, you know, I honestly think I made the best choice given my options. I couldn't get away from my desk, I was so stressed that taking a little mental break wasn't going to cut it, and I was, seriously right on the sharp edge of losing it. You know what's sick? It worked, almost immediately, like a charm. I immediately felt my body relax, my fists unclenched, my shoulders drop away from my ears. Sick, I tell you. Ring that darned bell, Mr. Pavlov, and I'll salivate.
I've been thinking (always dangerous) and I'm wondering if maintaining for a little while, rather than being focused so intently on the weight loss part of this, mightn't be a good thing. If I can comfortably get myself into a size 22 (probably about five pounds), I could just maintain there for a month or two - working out at the level I do now and sticking with my healthy meals for the most part - and, with any luck, curtain my unhealthy obsession with the scale. I know that I look better than I did a few months ago and I certainly feel better, so why not? I could still focus on the internal parts of myself that so desperately need attention while giving myself "permission" to eat off plan occasionally as long as there was no bingeing involved. I'm not sure I'll do it, but I'm giving it a lot of thought.
Sunday night. So, I wrote this wonderful post this morning, all about how tough it is for me to love myself because I've been conditioned that there's nothing worthy of loving, and...Blogger ate it! Grrr. I'm not re-creating it because I'm hoping the Blogger Help folks will know what happened and be able to retrieve it. If that doesn't happen, you'll just have to trust me when I tell you that it was heartfelt and wonderful.
Today was a great day. It's my dad's 61st birthday and we met at the Oceanside Harbor for Sunday brunch - nummy! I ate more than I should have and it was really good food. Tonight will be another hour walk which will not even come close to burning off all of the calories and that's OK. I might put my weighing and measuring - scheduled for Wednesday - off a week just to give this blob of food time to digest, but, then again, maybe I won't. It happened, it's over, might as well find out where I stand, huh?
Lots of laundry today because I haven't done any in almost two weeks. I don't know why I don't just do a load when I accumulate enough but I'd guess it has something to do with my natural tendency to procrastinate. I really need to work on that, don't I?
I bought my second charm for my weight loss bracelet today. For those that don't know (or have forgotten), I am putting together a 14K gold charm bracelet to represent my achievements in losing weight and gaining health. So far, I have the bracelet (1st ten pounds - 246) and one charm, a cherub holding onto a heart, to symbolize that this is about cultivating love for myself (2nd ten pounds - 236). The charm that I bought today is a little can of mustard seeds, with "If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible unto you" imprinted on it, to remind me that I can move this mountain in front of me, no matter how insurmountable it looks. Last time I weighed, I was 229, so I'm only three pounds from my next charm and it seemed like as good a time as any to buy it so that I'm ready to attach it once 226 pops up on the scale. By the time I'm done, if all goes according to plan, I'll have a beautiful bracelet with 10 charms on it, a healthy body, and self-esteem to match.
