Same as always. Hey hey…I lost three pounds! How clever, eh? I guess at this point, I can’t even get excited because it’s so easy to find them again if I’m not careful, and let’s face it, folks - I’m just not always careful. I have to admit, acknowledge, OWN the fact that my weight is just plain cyclical, and that’s all there is to it. Sometimes (usually early summer through late fall) I get pretty close to where I’d really like to be - and stay - within five or six pounds, anyway - and it feels good, and I manage to look decent and be active and enjoy life a bit, AND THEN, even though every year I SWEAR that I’m not going to, I gain weight through the winter months. Not always a LOT, but enough to make my clothes too snug (and make some downright too tight to wear!) and enough to make me FEEL unhappy with myself. Then, it gets around to late February (now) and we start having a few warmer days and the snow starts to melt a bit, and I’m thinking SPRING, and when I think spring, I think, “Oh gawd! I’m not gonna fit into my clothes!!!!” and that’s when I get back on track with my dieting and manage to drop the winter pounds…only to gain them back again within a month or so of the first snowfall. I KNOW this isn’t healthy or good to be up and down like a yo-yo, but I can’t seem to climb out of this annoying cycle that I’m in. Sometimes I just truly wish that I could be comfortable weighing more than I’d like to, but I just can’t. (I’ve tried). Well, I suppose that’s what we all have in common here then, isn’t it? None of us can get comfortable staying heavier than we’d like to be. Now this is going to sound a little far-fetched, maybe, but I’m beginning to believe that our imperfections - and in this case, I’m talking battles with weight, of course - are what make us nice people, more able to empathize with others, more tolerant and more understanding, I think, of some of the battles that others fight throughout their lives. Then, of course there are times when it doesn’t make us empathetic at all, and we just want to kick some skinny person dead in the butt for complaining about gaining three ounces or something.  I know that I, personally, feel a little homocidal everytime I’m out at lunch with some ultra skinny co-worker or board member (one of our board members runs the Boston marathon every year; she’s the size of one of my legs) and she can’t finish what she ordered - a freaking SIDE salad without dressing! Yes, SURE, that’s why she’s skinny and I’m not, but must she FLAUNT her self-discipline quite so blatantly, for pity’s sake? Then there’s ANOTHER board member - very wealthy - who is 75 if she’s a day, but has had herself “cosmetically altered” so drastically that she can barely smile, and her jawline is so sharp it’s a wonder she hasn’t cut off a hand applying make-up; well, SHE looks at me quite pityingly, of course, and I can just about read her mind…”Poor Z. Look at all those wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Look at that double chin emerging…look at that pudgy body (this woman has had her BODY altered, too! I SWEAR it!!!) look at the knock-off designer clothes! Poor thing is on the decline, isn’t she?” Oh well, at least I can smile, you…um….you KNOW! (Smile while I shoot her between the eyes, that is!)

Okay, so the way that I comfort myself through all of this is by telling myself that there will always be bigger, smaller, older, younger, richer, poorer, etc., etc. people than me in the world. That’s just how it is. Sometimes this helps, and sometimes it doesn’t. I just thought I’d throw it out there. No guarantees implied.

Did I mention that I’m at home today? I went to work and then couldn’t imagine staying there all day long, so I developed a sudden “stomach virus” and came right on home. It may have something to do with the fact that DH is off at a couple of meetings today, and I couldn’t resist the rare opportunity to be home all be my lonesome. I have to grab these times where I can, you know?

Well, this has been quite a stream-of-conciousness blather, hasn’t it. I don’t dare re-read it.

Hugs,

Z