It’s not all sunshine and lollipops. I woke up this morning – well, “woke up” is really too strong a term. I surfaced from the ocean of sleep like a whale breaching for air, and somehow convinced myself to quit the comfortable embrace of my warm quilts. Staggering out of the room, I felt bloated, overweight, achy, tired, and just generally puce. (I have no idea what color puce is. It just sounds awful.)
I knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that today I had gained weight. Too many stresses, not enough sleep, and cheating on my meal plan (I had a giant bowl of frozen blueberries and a sinful spoonful of Skippy peanut butter last night as retaliation foods*) were all ganging up on me, and I had gained weight.
I turned on the Wii, and while I was waiting for it to warm up, I played that mental gambling game, betting on how much more I would weigh today. .6 pounds… maybe even .8 pounds.
Then the green circle of recognition.
Then the red dot of instability and lack-of-center-of-balance.
Then the moment of truth.
I watched as the poor little Mii started at the bottom of the BMI scale and the little line skyrocketed up and up and up and… stopped, below where it was yesterday. Below. Significantly below. Like 1.3 pounds worth. Since the day before.
*$#*(&$! (And it’s hard to pronounce that before 6am.)
If only I’d really gained weight, I could have thrown a pity party for myself. But nooOoo, it was still working. I felt like warmed-over roadkill and it served a purpose? It’s really hard to host a pity party when the underlying emotion is elation.
And the worst part? I couldn’t even groan and moan about how sore I was and how much I hurt and ached because, well, because it really wasn’t that bad. I mean, yeah, I was sort of achy, and, yeah, I could feel the muscles I’d worked yesterday and earlier in the week, but they didn’t make me gasp in pain with every movement. They were just sort of sitting on the sidelines like bored parents at a t-ball game, half-heartedly waving little flags as if saying, “Yeah, we’re here. We’re not shouting or jumping up and down, but we’re here.”
Grrr… So that kind of ruined the whole puce-ness of the day. If I think too hard about any of this, I’m going to start thinking good, kind thoughts about myself. And how would I ever handle that?