So. New scale. Let me start by saying that the morning started off rough, as sleeping with G can be like sleeping with a newborn baby. He is up on the hour, every hour, it seemed, or at least last night he was. Most nights, it seems, although I have become better at cultivating my ability to sleep through it, haha. But at 1 a.m. he bashed his leg on the footboard of the bed for oh, I don't know, the 1000th time this week, but THIS time it surprised him and he screamed loud enough to wake me out of a dead sleep.
Plus the night before, I had a horrific nightmare about a spider, and I went to sleep afraid that I would dream about it again. What did this nightmare spider do? It existed. That's all it needed to do. In my dream, I ran across it in a crowded corner of a garage (not ours, thank goodness, or I'd be afraid it was a premonition). It was HUGE. With a fat, round purple body. In my dream, I was so terrified of it, I couldn't move. And it was trying to get away from me, but in doing so, it CAME TOWARD ME. In my dream, I was so scared I was even unable to scream, or move. It finally ran down a wall and its spell was broken and I was able to run across the garage. But horrifically, I could still see it on the wall from across the garage, it was so huge.
In my dreams, I can never scream. Most of my nightmares center upon how utterly without voice I am, at a time I need to be able to scream. I hope, should the awful need arise in real life, I could manage more than the raspy squeaks I eek out in my dreams. I pray I never have to find out. :)
Well, two days later you can see how badly that spider dream terrified me, but it was no match for the horror I found waiting for me on the new scale:
|Haha, I wish. I guess that's the New Scale Motivational Sticker.|
Before I share my shame, let me make my excuses. I was so EXHAUSTED this morning, I utterly and truly forgot it was Weigh-In Wednesday until I was happily in the shower, minding my own business. And you know I have a weighing routine on Wednesdays: pee, weigh, shower. Never the three shall be done out of order.
Except today. I decided that I was really just postponing the inevitable if I didn't weigh in. Things are not going well and me and my bloated body know it. G and I rode the motorcycle to work yesterday for the first time in a long while, and when I put on my pants after the long season of not riding, I thought, "Okay, you've got maybe a couple more rides at this rate before you have to go buy new motorcycle pants." The pants that fit me from the time G and I first met (they were his son's quad-riding pants) do not so much fit me right now. I couldn't button them (to stay buttoned) although I could zip them. It would be mortifyingly embarrassing to have to buy new motorcycle pants, I'm telling you. And what a waste of money!
I can't feel my ribs and hips the way I've gotten so accustomed to doing, anymore. My breasts feel huge and round and heavy. My chest, or décolletage, feels puffy and padded. I am miserable in my own body.
Another excuse is that I had some major dental work on Thursday, and spent much of the next several days on pain pills, which wreak havoc on my digestion, despite all my best efforts. But I remedied that situation on Sunday - although I still took some pain pills up through last night, I have been really suffering. :( So, constipation is an issue, but it's not *the* issue.
Finally, who's to say the new scale isn't more accurate than the old one? I may replace the one in my daughter's bathroom, too, it's so dramatically different. How old is that old scale, I wonder?
And the new scale wasn't going to pull any punches, either. Look how bright those numbers are! They seared themselves in my eyes. Blech.
|Oh sure, *now* you'll orient the pictures in the right direction.|
I can say all the things I need to say, but I keep saying them without doing the right things. So for right now I'm just gonna shut my g*d mouth. That's the biggest thing I need to do to take off the weight anyway, hahaha.