Caterwauling

The office landlord paid a visit today. He had prospective tenants in tow. 

That was fun. I guess we are moving. 

I hadn’t thought about not being there in that building. It was seven years ago on March 24 that I started working across the hall. 

I got to thinking of the weight I was at back then. At least 10 pounds lighter. Maybe closer to 12 or 15. 

I want to get back there before we go. Hell, before my birthday would be even better. 

That would be a good, full round circle. 

I hope we can stay in town. It’s festival season and I would miss walking out and seeing things like this (from today’s Savor the Avenue celebration) …

I’m getting Stewie a bath today. Seventy-five bucks. I figure I wash him once a year. Last year’s trip led to a $300 repair after the guy broke my wiper transmission.  But I figured that was the universe getting me back for not being able to tip the guy the year before. 

I was debating handing cash to the guy I think I stiffed. But hell if I would know if it’s the same one. I remember the guy who broke the car though. He isn’t here. 

I was telling mom about it. She said the same thing after i told her how terrible I felt after Maddie got sick and I didn’t even notice. She said you just do better the next time. 

So the guy today will get a good tip. And Kadie goes to the vet tomorrow. She’s lost some weight and is starting to pull out her own fur. Just like her momma. 

Well. I’m not literally yanking out my hair. Just metaphorically over all that’s going on and my utter inability to deal with it. Maybe it’s good that Dish Network is losing Bravo and CNBC. I can’t hide in reality tv and work anymore. 

But I did lose another pound this week. Go, me. 

This is me doing better this time. 

I was listening to men talk about their weight and had to laugh when one said he was lighter than some other dude by 20 pounds. 

That’s totally how women compare ourselves. Even if we don’t say it out loud. 

Kills me that I’m a lot lighter than all of them and I’m still a pudgy pork roast in comparison. 

Oh well. I’m a happy one. 

What a week. 

I found that dieting and walking more than usual only makes you gain weight. 

I swear I was down three pounds midweek. But last night I binged on mom’s amazing cauliflower fritters. Because I am a dork and would eat cauliflower over chocolate any old day. 

But I think my most remarkable feat of strength this week wasn’t eating next to nothing. (Ex-cauliflower binge.) 

It was not publishing all the draft blog posts I wrote in fits of omgwtfbbq. 

So the week has been a wash at best. But maintaining gainful employment, even as challenging as it has been, nudges this week into the “win” column. 

Even if only by another newly acquired gray hair. 

I wrote that sentiment to a friend going through hell. It’s something I tell myself every day. Even a streaming shitpile of a day like today. 

But instead of focusing on the bad, today I will cheer because I have never walked 10K steps four days in a row before. 

Not a bad start to Lent. Especially given what a wash the day could have been without this victory. 

The dinner situation. Mom’s vs. mine. Not pictured here: a Publix King cake.   

My little 9 SmartPoint meal was fine. Not as omgwtfbbq aromatic as the Little Caesars bacon wrapped crust delight. And I prefer my king cakes to come from Ranny Mandazzo’s in New Orleans. So, I win tonight. 

I better have a lower number on the scale Saturday or else I’ll lose my damn mind. 

When I leave work late, I’m always the dork walking amongst the rich and famous (and expensively dressed for the nightlife) with my lunchbox. 

It doesn’t bother me. My mommy makes sure I have food. Can they say the same? Of course, they can afford $32 for a cheeseburger. But still. 

Today I took out the peanut M&Ms and Dove peanut butter meltaways before I even left the house. Go, me. 

That was my only victory today. But I’ll take it. Otherwise, I took about 7,000 fewer steps than yesterday and consumed about 10 more points. 

It’s turning into a stupid-busy week and I’m trying to keep to some promises (not resolutions) I made myself this year:

• I deserve evenings off. 

Not sure whether I’m at peace or if I’m dead inside. But would anyone care either way, really?

Maybe I could have been Amy Shumer if I could just have made a career out of being who I really was instead of the boring fuck I’ve forced myself to become. 

That moment when it’s 5 p.m., you’ve been working since 5 a.m., and you want to murder everyone you’ve ever met but you’re TOO TIRED to kill them all.

I had a victory of sorts today. First, I stepped on the scale and I didn’t want to kill myself. Yay.

Then I ate what I wanted out of my lunch and then walked my lunchbox to my car.

That accomplished two things. I got maybe 2,000 extra steps out of it. Also, I got all the delicious, chocolately treeeeaaaaatttts out of easy reach.

I’ve been on Weight Watchers for the past eight years. Other than losing 65 pounds the first time around, then gaining 30, then losing 25, then gaining 10 … I’ve been watching that weight stay pretty stuck.

Mom is so sickly all the time, so I try not to get annoyed when she cooks stuff with lots of butter.

Or when she packs a brownie BECAUSE SHE BAKED IT WITH HER TIRED CRIPPLED LITTLE HANDS.

Or when she dumps in half a bag of Dove chocolates because I LOVE YOU HONEY …

*scream*

In any event, I bitch. And moan. And say hey lady, no buying any of that shit anymore so you don’t have to tempt me with it. Or hide it in your fucking room so I don’t have to see it.

And I lose every battle.

Not this week.

She baked banana bread on Friday. Which she hasn’t done in over a year when made a loaf for a friend of mine that she loved. But the friend never returned my text saying hey, gift for you. So I gave that loaf to Pinhead and never saw one come out of my kitchen since.

And I haven’t even gone near it.

But when I have crap at my desk, I get to the “I cannot get away from my desk anytime soon SO FAMISHED I AM GOING TO DIE NOM NOM NOM” stage of the day and all bets are off.

Not today.

Don’t get me wrong. I am willing to go out to my car to GET said chocolate and quinoa chips and whatever else in there I tried not to notice.

But I’m so eager to GET THE HELL HOME SOMEDAY MAYBE EVENTUALLY that I will not go to the car.

And by the time I get to the car, the craving will have passed — for chocolate AND the blood of a thousand souls.

We call that a Non-Scale Victory, or NSV.

I will be thrilled if I can officially get through today with a scale victory and a non-scale one. IthinkIcanIthinkIcanIthinkIcan…

I’ve been paying Weight Watchers forever.  With a lot of success. When I’m committed to it. 

Anyway I am still a member. And there was a members-only call with Oprah tonight. Which was awesome and I could pontificate over many experiences we share. 

But the most interesting part was when Oprah spoke fondly of her right-hand gal. 

I know her. We went to high school together. She was a year behind me and I also adored her younger sister. 

For fun I sent her a short, heartfelt message to tell her I always knew she would go far. She thanked me almost immediately. 

She said she was sitting across from Oprah when my message came through. 

What a fun little connection to rekindle in a very sweet way!

I hear the crazies are still upstairs, slamming the doors and windows. Sigh. I saw all their ugly discarded furniture on the curb under the “no dumping” sign. With any luck, their bed is gone and they will go to it. 

So hey it’s Halloween, yes? I was a cat in the morning and a bat for the night …