The quest for happy imperfection…

Wait, I don’t have kids you say? Yes, I do. They’re just furry, walk on all fours, and are conspiring against me.  So I get home last night, all excited to take Lucy dearest out for a nice long walk. Only to find that she has set up an archaelogical dig in my kitchen, where she is in deep study of my trash and what it says about my culture.  (My culture that’s about to give her a butt whopping!) so she goes into timeout while I clean up, grumbling the whole time. Finally, the dig has been returned to its resting place, and I go to wash my hands in the sink. Hmm, funny. I remember opening the window, but I sure don’t remember removing the screen… wait.. CRAP! So I run upstairs and, sure enough, Squitty, aka my husband’s other love, is gone. Damn damn damn! She’s not a particularly bright cat, and she’s always been curious of the outdoors. So I’m tearing through the backyard, yelling her name, stepping in dog poop (until the snow’s gone we don’t pick it up, since we won’t be out there anyway), generally freaking out. All I can picture is having to call DH at work, where he’s already having a bad day because his partner no showed and so he got stuck with another overnighter, and having to tell him I lost the love of his life. Then he would tell me to pack my bags and leave, and I would drown my sorrows in icecream… nothing good was going to happen.  Thankfully, she comes around the corner and I snatch her up, unsure if I want to strangle her or kiss her.

So, my whole night timeline got pushed around from my pet trauma. In the end, Lucy only got a 20 minute hike before I had to get over to a meeting at 7:30. I was seriously jonesing for some Taco Bell, which happened to be right next to the Starbucks I was meeting at. Luckily, I was able to convince myself Subway was a better option. I still had a roast beef with cheese AND mayo (boo-yah!) and half a bag of chips, but the quality of calories is still better. Went over to my meeting at Starbucks, had a hot tea, went hoem and off to the gym.

I tweaked my knee somehow so I didn’t do any lifts, and I didn’t have much time so I just did 45 minutes on the eliptical. But it felt good to just go and do. I woke up too late to do anything in the morning, and I didn’t have time to take her out at lunch. Same story today. (It’s so much harder to get out of bed when DH works the overnighter and isn’t there to push me out of bed in the morning when I hit the snooze button an 8th time)But, I’m getting better and better. And most importantly, I’m starting to like it again.

As for my boobs… I’m going to rip them off. I’ve finally accepted that I can’t just keep wearing the wrong size bra until I lose the weight. I’m ridiculously uncomfortable. All the time. So, this weekend I’ll be driving an hour and a half to get the right size. (Welcome to Tahoe, where you live far away from everything but the world’s dirtiest KMart) But, I’m looking forward to not hurting!