Thursday, April 14, 2011

procrastination, ADD, or something else?

i don't know why i keep forgetting to post to my blog. i know i committed to myself that i would journal my progress, both physically and emotionally, yet for some reason i keep forgetting. i get distracted by work, by life, by television... it's so bad.

last night's WW theme was making time for yourself - which is what reminded me that i needed to update this. because while i am talking to you, i am doing this for me as well. it really does help to look back at my writing and see how i was feeling at a given time and understand it. so... this morning, i put fingers to keyboard and am journaling again. last night's weigh in: down 1.8 - i was very pleased with this number, given that i had weighed in last week in the morning and it was only 5 days earlier. i am curious what that number would have been if i waited the full week, and went in the morning, but then i wouldn't get to go to my favorite leader's meeting. i'll take the loss, thankyouverymuch. last week, i did gain (period) but i expected it given that i felt like the entire Atlantic Ocean was being stored in my boobs. damn water retention. so, my net loss in 11 weeks is 3 pounds. not horrible. i am actually exactly the same weight i was last June when i went to my friend's wedding in Atlanta.

root canal is healing nicely - i was finally able to chew on that side of my mouth last weekend. i am coronated on April 26th. you can still call me Kristin, but in my mind i will be "queen" for a day. so, this week, the husband is in Florida for a mini-vacation by himself. he has to schedule his vacations a year in advance due to where he works, and i couldn't afford to take this week off from my job. i've been on my own all week, and it SUCKS. i don't think about these things when i have to travel for work, but being home alone with just the cat to torture me really blows chunks. the first night was OK, because i was exhausted from getting up at 3:30 AM to drive him to the airport. last night, i went to my WW meeting, and then came home and caught up on the DVR. i still haven't done any housework that i needed to do before he got back. the laundry bomb went off and the house looks like a disaster area from a dryer explosion. maybe tonight.

i am going for a tattoo consultation TOMORROW. yes, you read correctly. i am actually doing it. lotus flower, right shoulder, for me to remind me that what cannot kill me makes me stronger (yes, i'm talking to you, asscancer). the next one will be on my left shoulder, and will be for him. i am scared and excited.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Le sigh...another day another crisis?

I had my annual last week. You know, the typical yucky girl stuff. And surprise of all surprises, she said "have you thought about losing weight?". Uh. Yeah. I've thought about it, and have been going to meetings for the better part of two months. Not that she would know this because all she sees is that haven't lost a damn thing in the past year. She didn't see the (slight, 2 pound) gain, or the losses. Just that I'm pretty much the same as last year. At the rate I'm going (about 1/4 pound average in 12 months)... I will be at goal in oh, about 99 years. No, scratch that. I'll be at goal...sometime after never?

Time to get serious. Oh, wait. Already getting there.

I have a few friends who struggle the same way I do, but until I open my mouth and talk about it (or, in this case, write about it), I have no idea that I'm normal. I always think my problems are so unique and special. They're not. A lot of us have the same insecurities and ways of dealing with things. I choose to eat or shop. I don't get many compliments these days, so buying pretty shiny new things is my way of getting some sort of positive attention. I know this. If I'm not getting the positive attention, I think I suck. And when I think I suck, like this past week where I had a glut of epic failures at work, I ate peeps to numb those negative feelings. Peeps are delicious, but they do not have magic powers to fix my problems. Yet, I turn to them every flipping time.

Anyway... The results of my appointment were posted today online. I have hpv. And my husband, when I told him, started bawling. I thought he was kidding, and I was laughing hysterically. He started projectile tears, and I knew he was serious. He thinks he gave me this horrible thing, but in truth, I may have given it to him. I had my first hpv test about 4 years ago, and it was negative. This one came back positive. What does this mean? Right now? Not a heck of a lot. I have to go back to the gyno in 6 months for a followup, and then who knows? So... I now get to worry about both ass and cooch cancer. How lucky am I? Eh... I'm okay with it. I'm not stressed or upset over either, but the husband? He's devastated. Not sure why, because in both cases, we will keep an eye on it and do what we can to keep it from going anywhere. I'm lucky because both types of cancer are very treatable when detected in the early stages, and I actually feel pretty lucky about that.

It's all about perspective. And right now, mine is pretty good, all things considered.

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Friday, April 1, 2011

Yuck... Part deux

Root canal.

Nuf said. It sucked big hairy monkey balls. No, I don't want to hurt the monkey's feelings... It was worse than that. It was like spending a weekend with my mother in law without the luxury of the safety word to get me out of there. It was like the worst torture ever. Water boarding? Fuck that. Give a terrorist a root canal. They'll tell you everything you need to hear once the lockjaw wears off.

When I say my mouth was pried in the open position for 90 plus minutes, I kid you not. I got in there at 11:30, and finally was allowed to close up shop at 1:20. What the deuce? At least the Novocain was still working, but I thought I could play rocky Dennis in the new "mask" movie opposite Cher. I felt deformed, I felt like I was handicapped from the face left. Nobody told me I was going to be starting a training program for future porn stars of america.

It was that bad. Next time, dear dentist, yank the fucker. I don't care if I look like the old man on "family guy." I'm going toothless. Gerber, I'll be your adult spokesperson.

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