I’ve got to go back to putting numbers before my sentences. It makes the sentences seem more worthwhile.
I had my first therapy with a new therapist. It was mostly information exchange and get to know you, etc. I already have homework though and this is sort of deeply exciting, although if i do it or not is anyone’s game.
weightwatchers is joined. the battle is yet to come. and i’m keeping track of my food and its good, but i’m hungry and i’m waiting for a hard boiled egg to be ready. nothing about this is exciting, and i want the buttered toast i just handed to the boys. but it is a matter of choice. Do i want the toast or do i want to feel better about my belly?
I went into my closet and took out all the stuff that is four numbers down from where i am now. even if i like it, its out. I’m not going to hold onto the ‘what if i entirely change’ wardrobe. I am what I am. Maybe I’ll change and then I’ll have to buy another dress and then, great, that’ll be a thrill. can you hear the thrill in my voice? Seeing the things I don’t fit into is a tiny hurt to my system. And why should I pile on tiny hurts? Away with you, papercut clothing!
I pulled out the last bunch of Christmas decorations. My kitchen table is awash in Santas. Its kind of cool. plus there is a bunch of the detritus of raising children. but I’ll take it. Find a baseball, a pen and a recipe for slow cooker butter chicken. If only i already owned garam masala.
How’re you filling your days? More and more I am staying home, the mini freezer is full, the wood box is stocked, and I’m just in. I don’t like it, but I don’t know what else to do. I wish everyone would just stay home for a couple of weeks, turn off the news and stay home. imagine what could happen.
I know I’ve said it before, but I’m perseverating on christmas morning being just me and the kids. I feel like its not enough, like I’m not enough, and i’m disappointing them somehow, being just me. I’m looking into baking some big kind of breakfast thing, but still, there must be something other than food and multiplying poverty-bringers that I can do. right? Its a real ‘cupboard-bare’ worry. (Again, I’m fine, it’ll be fine, etc. etc.)
I’m wearing two scarves today because its chilly in here, and if i just went and got the heavy winter one, I’d look like a normal person. but no. just. no.
I’ve made a point of wearing lipstick for three days now. Several realizations: it bloody well comes off doesn’t it, if you drink anything at all?! goddamn. 2.women do so so many constant and fruitless things. 3.it really does look nice, fuckit.
ten, ten, ten. now my closet has a lot of hangers in it. but still a lot of clothes that i kept. because it was hard. sigh. and i also attacked the napkin and dishcloth drawers. Now everything can close smoothly and its like a dream. a dream i tell you.
still reading? because, my god, god bless you every one.
