I went a week without working out for the first time in eight months, and though the rational side of me knows I won’t automatically gain the baby weight back, the easily-spooked, guilt-ridden, nutty side of me thinks my ass already feels as though it is hanging an inch lower, and seems slightly mushier.
Being healthy is hard WORK, man. And I will never make it to All Organic Optimal Fitness Zen Master status. I don’t want to. Let it be known, right now, and for all of eternity, I AM NOT GIVING UP RED WINE OR COFFEE! YOU CAN KISS MY DRUNK, YET SEMI-ALERT ASS FIRST!
In other news – the possible moving, hubby going off to war, me running to Seattle with the kids, losing 20 thousand crazy dollars on the house news – the news that had me in such a tizzy a month ago….. it goes back to the back burner to simmer. My husband is having surgury on his elbow to correct a right hand that’s half numb, and has been so for over 6 months. Now, since that hand also opperates his trigger finger, therein lies a complication in sending him to war just now.
So, as it stands, they (Uncle Sam & Friends) will wait out his recovery before they determine our collective future. Three months recovery, at least. The news brings sighs of relief, mostly. My daughter gets to finish out the school year. My littlest toddler monkey gets more time to bond with a daddy she’s grown to really love and enjoy. We get to wait out this piece of shit housing market, and perhaps recoup a couple measly grand on our heart-sickening investment loss. AND…well…there are basically lots of “ands” that all equal upsides.
Where that puts me currently is that I’m in a place where I need to figure out what I’m going to do. I have 9 months to figure out if I’m going to get a shitty local job? Go to school? Pen my masterpiece? Eat, sleep and drink more?
The possibilities are not endless.