I completely forgot that I hadn’t tested this camera at all after I’d tried unsuccessfully to get the light meter to work after I first bought it on eBay in August 2015. I got a mighty good deal on it, due to its cosmetic condition. The dings and dents and missing cosmetic bits don’t really bother me so much, as long as the camera works. I’d rather have a camera with character, anyway.
Connor, age five-and-a-half, called me upstairs after lights out tonight because his feet hurt. Totally legit reason, so I headed upstairs to dose out some Tylenol and rub his feet. On my way up, I yawned mightily and stretched my arms over my head.
“Maybe you should go to bed a little early tonight,” my son suggested.
I think he might be onto something there.
Happy birthday, @schavitz! Today is also my boss’s birthday and George Takei’s birthday, so you’re in good company. Enjoy your day!
Kirby art by @talcotts is hanging on my son’s wall beside some Green Lantern art by Art Balthazar. Connor says he loves his Kirby “poster!”
Just having one of those evenings where nothing I’d planned to do sounds good. I had a whole to-do list figured out: balance my checkbook, post a blog entry from some notes I’d typed out earlier, epilate my legs, some other stuff. Instead, all I want to do is play on my phone and stuff my face.
Last week was weird. My son was home from pre-k with a fever, so I worked from home on Tuesday, took a personal day Wednesday, then worked from home again on Friday, with my husband rocking “Daddy Days” with Connor for the remainder of the week. I didn’t plan my meals well, didn’t get much activity or even any time outside. At today’s Weight Watchers weigh-in, I’d gained just over a pound in two weeks.
I told my leader I wasn’t that worried. That was kind of a lie, since I continue to be worried about my lack of judgement and self-control in the moment. Tired, cranky, depressed, thrown off, worried, stressed — all those lead to food.
When I’m in the right mental space, I know what to do. When I’m feeling shitty, I still know what I should do, but I sincerely don’t care in that moment. It’s not All Or Nothing thinking — I don’t go down a crazy rabbit hole all night or all week because I screwed up — but it is self-sabotage of a sort.
I don’t fit in my clothes right anymore. I feel jiggly and frumpy and blah, even though I currently weigh 32 pounds less than when I started Weight Watchers, and over 70 pounds less than when I got married 14 years ago.
I had reached the point of feeling a certain kind of awesome, back before I gained this ten pounds back over a year and a half, and I need to recapture that awesomeness somehow. It’s not going to happen during this week of birthday cakes and fancy dinners (and I’m fine with that — birthdays only come once a year), but I think my present to myself for my 41st birthday will be to Treat Myself Right.