Caterwauling

Since that’s how much lighter I am after losing my mind this week. 

Kitty looks at the scale on weigh-in Saturdays. I love seeing her little head in this pic. 

I take the pic so I remember to add it to my WW app. Which is looking better than I thought it would today, TBH …

Fell asleep at 10 p.m. after an exhausting day. Awakened at midnight courtesy of Islamic Caitlyn Jenner. It’s 2 a.m. now and I’m still wide-eyed. Because he’s moving furniture and slamming doors now. 

I find myself wishing I had something fun to snack on. But I can’t snack without destroying the whole bag or pint or box. So I gave up snacks that aren’t fruit or veggies. 

Understand, I’ve gone about 90% vegetarian and there is no sugar to be found in my world. 

Except wine. Which I drank to fall asleep and hahaha, thanks Islamic asshole upstairs. 

Am fat girl. Am fat girl who has recently (and for the 100th time) parted with some pounds. And I don’t want to see them again. 

Am also fat girl with zero sense of control. There’s a reason why there’s no food in this house. It would all be in mah belleh. 

Mom was very hurt that I refused to buy anything sweet for my birfday. She loves sweets. She also is in pain and can’t get around too well. So it’s been a big deal to me because she’s had to eat well all week. Not that it’s cured her to go without it.  

Of course, she didn’t eat much. She didn’t want it. Meanwhile I hoovered all the vegetarian stuff she cooked or that I brought home.  

She asked every day for a sweet treat. I refused. Every time. Proud of myself for not enabling either of us. 

She will get her favorite BBQ this weekend. And I will have to starve or succumb and undo all my hard work this week. I’m happy she will be happy. But I am not pleased I have to put myself in a situation with limited choices. 

But I have no choice but to keep at it. The alternative is far worse. 

My lifestyle changes mean I feel great — better than ever — other than stress and sleep deprivation. I concentrate better. I move more. I just like being alive because I feel more alive. 

But that’s the thing. I can’t control people. I can only control my eating. And no one is more shocked that the recent stress pile hadn’t turned into snacking. 

And I can only control my intake  when I’m not faced with a challenge I’m not equipped to win. I get enough of those all week that aren’t food-related. 

And it makes me crazy that one small dose of sugar has the potential to reverse all my progress. 

It’s not just one bite or serving. It’s the “fuck this is good. MOAR EVERYTHING” beast I’m so terrified of unleashing. 

Since that’s been my only experience. And that bitch is hangry. 

Will I ever be able to sate her with something other than food? And when will something sweet happen that can serve as a suitable surrogate?

When things get bad for my friends, I always tell them, “Every day is a good day.”

Even if some are better than others, there’s good to be found in each.

Yesterday was a dogpile. I ain’t gonna lie. Work was very busy yet non-productive. (The whole retrograde cycle has felt like that.) Ran into a lot of resistance with some folks on the payroll and off.

Had a really stressful experience at the grocery store and then a worse one trying to order dinner from the place next door.

Then I got into it with Islamic Caitlyn Jenner upstairs. I truly, truly hope his tiny terrorist ass gets to meet his 72 virgins sooner rather than later.

I’ve also been battling the scale. I was on such a roll. I knew not to talk about my progress. I knew the magic number I hit a week ago is the number of ultimate resistance for me.

Now I’m up FOUR POUNDS from it. DA FUQ??!!

I’ve never walked more. I’ve never eaten so damn many vegetables in my life. Sure, I’ve snuck in some chocolate-chip cookie cake from Publix (because Oh Mah Gah it’s so good). And wine. And Halo Tops birthday cake ice cream. Because, it’s my birthday month and therefore a long celebration.

So yeah. Four pounds. Fuq me running.

So where is the good? Well. It wasn’t an event so much as a revelation.

Everyone in my family died young and sick. They either lost their ability to walk or had an aneurysm in their brain or a spinal problem or who knows what. Every day faded into the next.

I watch the same happening with my mom. She cared for those people till they were gone. Now the torch is passed to me to watch helplessly and not be as active or happy as I want to be.

These scars run deep, by the way.

Anyway. I did something unusual. I took a moment to thank my body for working. For being a lot smaller than it has been. For being healthy and functioning. For all my limbs working and my brain firing and my skin trying to tighten up without pounds of fat to hold it up.

I mean, that’s pretty awesome.

I think it goes back to the weekend when I saw a girl at the beach who had clearly lost a ton of weight and was rocking a bikini. I thought she looked great and almost said so. But I wondered if she were self-conscious of the skin hanging all around, and thought better of it.

I don’t want that. Honestly I think most people look better fat. The “after” pictures I see on a lot of Weight Watchers profiles are downright gruesome.

I get to the point I’m at where I’m good, you know? All my clothes fit. I feel great. I have energy and I love all my cute little T-shirts just the way they are.

I’m feeling fabulous but not flabulous.

Anyway. I do want this weight area (sigh) to be the ceiling. I need for this to be my fat weight. Which means I need to get cracking on moving down, not staying put.

I’m stagnant in every other area of my life. My body, I can change, at the very least.

And I need to get better about telling my body how good it is to me. Perhaps it will keep responding in kind. After all, we are in this together, good or bad, for the long haul.

I owe it so much more than what I’ve done to it up until now. And with any luck, it will always be as forgiving as it has.

I have a friend who, when you ask how he’s doing, he says “Better than I deserve.”

When it comes to health, looking at my family and then looking at myself, I would have to say the very same thing.

Thanks, body. For everything.

It’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Every time I get to my current weight, I blow it. 

On Saturday I even managed to get to my “first month in Florida” weight. My lowest in seven years. And probably the lowest in 20 years if you want to get technical. 

So Naturally today I sabotaged myself just a tad after a healthy breakfast and lunch. 

It was tasty as hell. Organic wine and organic pizza. 

But I feel like a stuffed piggy with a curly little tail. 

I guess now is the point where I start to put back on the 30 pounds I’ve gained and lost every year for the past seven years. 

But first, I have to go back for prosciutto and arugula pizza. 

And wine. Definitely more wine. 

Well other than getting to see Evanescence rock the house last night …

Last Sunfest, we had just parted ways with some folks at work. Projects that took 45 hours a week, on top of my regular duties, were suddenly gone. 

It was a weekend of celebration then. And now. 

I wrapped up four projects, the worst of which I wrapped up on Friday. And one of those projects used to mean I had to wake up at 5 am on Mondays.  No more. 

Granted my body woke me up anyway today. But it’s ok. Coffee and WW Connect filled that space. 

And damn, guess who walked 20 miles this weekend at the festival? This girl!!!!

There’s this Connect feature on the Weight Watchers app. I love it because it’s a positive version of Facebook. Instead of people dumping on you because you like Hillary Clinton or you think the idea behind “Me-ternity leave” is a fair one, everyone cheers you on through good and bad.

Unfortunately there is an abundance of sad and negative posts. I mean, I get it. People feel alone and want to binge — or DO binge — and need/deserve encouragement. I don’t post those things but it is nice to see that I’m not the only one who drank ALL THE WINE last night.

I’ve noticed a trending hashtag, #keepconnectpositive. People posting pics with their dogs, or scenery they saw on their hike or screenshots of hitting their 10,000 daily steps on Fitbit.

In other words, keep yo shit to yo-self. Maintain the community.

People are talking about losing jobs, losing houses, losing family members — losing anything but weight.

It’s hard to look at. And as some cunt said to me about thinking the “Me-ternity leave” idea is something that I personally wouldn’t mind hearing more about, “You don’t HAVE to buy baby gifts.” Mother of the year, that one. Compassion much for a gal who has OTHER things to deal with that aren’t baby-related and therefore not as high a priority to others?

Anyway.

This is one of those “do I keep mah shit to mah-self” moments — where I only talk about how much fun I had watching Salt & Pepa and Rick Springfield at Sunfest yesterday — or I say what’s really on my mind?

Here’s what happened for anyone who feels like reading on …

I was driving to Sunfest and I saw an animal in the street that was clearly hurt. I think its back legs had been run over. It was tiny — I thought it might have been a rat but in hindsight it could have been a gray kitten.

As I approached (probably at 40 mph. I drive my age), I could see terror in its eyes and it tried to move but couldn’t.

I was lucky enough to swerve and miss her completely. But what about the cars coming after me?

I wanted so badly to pull over and pull that creature to safety. Get it help or let it die in peace.

And I thought, oh my god. This is how it happens. Some Good Samaritan dives into traffic to save a wounded animal and the hoomin gets kilt.

If you’ve seen all the crackheads in jalopies around here, you’d get my fears.

I didn’t “turn that car around.” (Oh yeah I did see OAR too since ZZ Top dropped out. Rockville REPRESENT.

And I have felt like SHIT since.

What if that was my kitty? That IS my momma. Nobody fucking cares but me about her and I am helpless there too.

But it brings up a bigger regret I have in life.

I used to help everyone, to the point there was nothing left for me. Not so much anymore. Going out of my way ain’t my thing these days.

Don’t get me wrong. I pray for anyone and everyone. I forgive my enemies. I love the people I meet from afar. I want a world filled with fortune and happiness for anyone who wants it. Call me a psychological socialist, if you will.

But that kitty, man. She was everyone and everything I maybe COULD have helped and didn’t. She was Maddie, Gram, Grampy, Old Gram, Aunt Lenna and my mom. She was Russell and every homeless person I had to walk or drive past. She was me after every misfortune with money and career and love.

She was helpless and just needed someone to give a shit. And I wanted to be that person. But not enough to do it.

I think most of you would say I did the right thing. That someone would have probably killed her within two minutes and put her out of her misery. That my momma needs me and I can’t afford to be hurt or dead or paralyzed for life or bitten by a frightened creature.

That some wild or runaway animal wasn’t worth my time or tears.

Well. Thanks. But that won’t stop me from remembering her terror or crying oceans because I didn’t do anything to stop it.

There were 12 brand-new baby duckies at my place. I think they all got killed while I was in Lake Buena Vista last week. I can’t find any of them. And I feel like maybe I attracted danger to them by feeding them. They trusted humans, which is never a good idea here. So, I’m not feeling the winning there either even though I tried to help.

One other thing while I’m not keeping things positive.

I was walking across the railroad tracks on my way to get some wine last night. And I thought, maybe I have seen enough of this life. I don’t mean I am going to lie down on the tracks or anything. I just had the sense that maybe if I’m not going to do anything great in this life, maybe I’ve already served my purpose.

I don’t know. I do have a band and fireworks to look forward to tonight. But I also have more urgent landlord issues and healthcare issues. (I tried to get mom coverage and I have threats every day for the past two months from the feds, the insurer and the underwriter for whatever forms I turned in or didn’t turn in and she needs help and did I mention FUCK OBAMACARE?)

Anyway. I do love this life. But there ain’t enough sleep you can get when your soul is what’s bone-tired.

I was afraid to come back from vacation. I mean, I was afraid I *wouldn’t* be able to.

But I was up at 5, editing what I hope is the last 5 a.m. Monday thing for good. 

But the really crazy part of the day? Is that I’m happy to be back. 

Also something to be happy about?

Lost a pound or 15 between Vero Beach and Lake Buena Vista …

I took a short walk today after scarfing in my salad at my desk. 

It’s not as unbearably hot as one would expect for April in Florida. But still. This southern belle needs some unsweet tea, stat. 

I realize I am about five pounds above my weight when I arrived in this town a few years back. And I had felt so tiny and cute then. But now? Chunk-a-lunka, man. 

Back then I was comparatively tiny  to where I was before that. But I can’t imagine carrying around all that weight again. Hell, that extra five pounds has me winded.

And I don’t feel tiny anymore. I mean I feel good and healthy enough for age 40. 

But whenever I get down and think well, this is where I always give up,  I realize it’s too much work to drag this booty around town in this heat. The path of lesser resistance then is to shed an ass cheek or two. 

Weight Watchers asks “What’s your why?” That’s mine.  And also this lovable little beast … And the lady who made that Easter display (Momma, of course) …

Just some thoughts  

1. I think I’m back in love with Florida again. At least, the street I work on. It’s my second-favorite festival of the year this weekend. I got some loot I love, including a platinum (!) anchor ring (to match my $5 silver anchor ring) …

  
Thank you, Delray Affair. Next stop: Sunfest!

2. The scale and I are locked in a battle of wills. I didn’t eat much last week and the scale stayed the same. So yesterday I ate an entire pint of Halo Top vanilla bean ice cream and a massive hunk of avocado toast. And I lost a pound … 

  
Schaeffer’s Tea Room is my favorite for avocado toast. Deck 84 is also awesome. This is from Tryst. Not too shabby although I would rather have had turkey bacon than the real thing. 

3. I got to reconnect with an old friend recently. It’s nice how many people visit Florida and actually want to see a gal. It’s also nice that they knew me when I was fun and social so they can put up with the introvert I’ve become. Nicer still that they try to stay in touch when I am so colossally bad at replying. 

4. I’ve been feeling a little bad about my last post. I mean, I don’t want to seem like I want/need people to be going out of their way to do anything for me. But when you get a happy birthday text and then see the next girl getting a happy birthday vacation, well. You know your place in their universe.  It’s been a good reminder to protect my heart. And my money. 

5. Just leaving this here. How is it that my favorite baseball teams train down here every spring and I haven’t gone to see them?!?! Note to self. Go see a grapefruit game or two next year.  

6. April allergy season and sunburns are no fun. But it sure beats “sprinter” — Spring/Winter and the snowy goodness it brings. Ergo, love me some Florida. Crackhead drivers and tourists and residents and all. 

How I’m down two pounds this week is a miracle. Starved myself four out of seven days, yes. But enjoyed wine, Rita’s frozen custard, Bud’s Fish and Chicken  (specifically the fries. Zomg), and way too many Party Tizer Dippin Chips. 

Anyway. If I’ve been a little cranky lately, it’s because I’ve been HUNGRY.