I don’t know about you guys, but I’m so grateful it is Friday. I look forward to the whole family being home for those two days. The Hubby is helping someone from work move on Sunday, but other than that…it’s our time. We are planning on driving out to church tomorrow, and then swinging by and picking up one of Bug’s friends from the old neighborhood to spend the night. It looks like Pally is going to a friend’s house for a play date some time this weekend as well. Is it still called a play date when they are almost 11? Oh well.
Today is a slightly heavier chore day for me. I’ve got a 3-loaf batch of oatmeal bread started, changed the linens in my bedroom, did a general straighten up in there, and ran the vacuum. I’m finally unpacking some of our books in the living room as well, and trying to get that room straightened up. I have to confess something…none of my houses have ever been kept this clean. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like I have so much more energy. It’s kinda weird, but I’m enjoying it.
I am messing with my own head, by the way. I got on the scale twice this week. I know, I know. I’m becoming obsessed. Well, on Tuesday when I remembered to weigh, I was down another 3.5lbs. Today, getting out of the shower I jumped on the scale, and am down another .5lb. Can I get a woot-woot! I still keep telling myself I can’t trust the scale, and that I’m going to get disappointed when I don’t have to buy smaller clothes, but I think I’m just trying to psych myself out. Oh, yes, y’all are going to be subjected to regular posts about my weight. It has been my biggest challenge for a LONG, long time. It is my cross to bear. I know that might sound weird, because it was something I allowed to happen, but if you have ever been fat, and have had to listen to your own internal dialogue, you know what I’m talking about. You think any success you might be having is a fluke. Oh, and by the way…I am not politically correct, so I usually just say I’m fat. I stopped trying to “pretty it up” a long time ago. It’s not a secret. Don’t you look at yourself in the mirror when you get dressed? I do. You can’t help but notice yourself, even if you don’t want to see the truth staring back at you from the mirror. Trust me, I am aware of my size. I love how people try to be so P.C. about it sometimes. Back when we lived in South Carolina, we were planning an outing with some “couple” friends, and the guy pulled the Hubby aside and pointed out that where we were going it was something like a mile walk from the parking lot to the activity. He was worried that I couldn’t do it. Holy Cow! I’m fat, but dang. It’s not like I never left the house, or anything. Okay, that was kind of a ramble. It’s still a weirdly sensitive issue. I don’t know that I’ll ever feel comfy throwing out the number the scale says, or the number I started at. Maybe when I’m down MUCH closer to the weight I want to be….maybe. I think that if posting that scary number (like, Freddy-Krueger-scary) would help someone, I might have to actually type it. Right now, I’m so still in the trenches with the struggle, that I’m not ready to share, not ready to help any one else, not ready to quite lay that much bare. Okay, enough of that!
Back to the weekend…I’m looking forward to having the Hubby here at supper time. He’s been working almost every night this week. I’m ready to have some family time. Now, I need to get off the internet, get my living room finished, change the music that is playing and plan our supper…