I was thinking about how back in January there was a medical emergency on my plane and I said I never wanted to fly again. I did fly again, one more time, before quarantine. (B.Q.) and then POOF my wish was granted.
I’m on my way to changing my mind, of course, but I’m not quite there. I’m at the place where a tropical vacation for our five year wedding anniversary sounds inviting, admittedly partly because it’s over a year away. Can everyone please wear their masks so I can go on a tropical vacation in 16 months? Thanks a bunch!
We’re adapting, aren’t we? Good for us!
I, for one, have mastered the art of “fake showering”. It’s like “fake cleaning your house”.
You just found out your in-laws are stopping by. You hit the large surfaces in the rooms they’ll see with rag and vacuum, shove all the clutter into drawers, closets or cupboards, reminding yourself not to forget you shoved it there, and turn on the scented oil warmer to mask the brussel sprouts you had for lunch. On the surface it looks good but you better keep their coffee topped off hot because if anyone opens the microwave you’re screwed.
The fake shower is the same concept. Clean the areas they’ll see- which in this video conference age means wet my curly hair down so it looks combed, wash my face, brush my teeth, apply mascara and put on a top that’s not going to show cleavage when I forget I’m on video and reach down to get a skittle I dropped.
Just kidding I am not eating skittles because I’m on day nine of weight watchers (WW) which means if I walk by you, you should hold on to your face lest I rip it off by accident. Just a little sugar withdrawal, move along. If I dropped something it would probably just be a baby carrot and that sucker can just stay there under my desk and think about what it’s done.
I went all Southern Cook for a while, and by that I mean Southern Cook in the Eighties because that’s the cookbook I was using. It was DELICIOUS. DIVINE. But then I did the dumbest thing ever and stepped on a scale and MERCY I knew what I had to do. Bless my heart.
Now that I’m back to seventy bajillion hours a week, it’s easier to diet. I don’t have time for cooking. Or exercising. After 12 hours of work today I still had 17 of 22 daily WW points left.
“I’ll think I’ll just skip dinner and drink my points,” I said.
That’s like eight and a half shots! J was very supportive of this approach, probably on account of the face ripping tendencies. I say “I’M HUNGRY!” and his eyes widen while he backs away slowly.
I didn’t drink my points, though, I had a ham and egg and garden tomato sandwich and don’t even tell me a tomato does not go with eggs and ham because a garden tomato goes on everything! I swear I could give up my second true love (after movie theater popcorn), mayonnaise, forever if I had a garden tomato for every sandwich.
I still have enough points for 4 shots. I have created a new diet plan! Dieting for shots!
I did get some exercise last weekend when we took down a big, dead tree in the yard. It was the tree that got struck by lightening. The tree that got struck by lighting that resulted in the garage door opener never working again and the septic pump going out. It took about two years for it to completely die, and then this spring it didn’t leaf out despite us desperately scrutinizing for signs of life. Now it is just a low stump in the front yard (sad face). A moment, please.
I logged A LOT of steps to the brush pile so I do not understand why I am not yet skinny. Nine days of diet and exercise! What a racket!
Yesterday I parted my hair on the other side. I dunno why either, I guess for something different. I thought I might get to play a little game of Make My Husband Guess What’s Different but apparently we spend all our non-working time together cause he got it as soon as he saw me. My hair did not like it so I did it again today because it needs to figure out who’s the boss.
You should try it. Go on.
Sometimes when we go to the lake my daughter comes over and waters the plants and let’s the cat on the deck and she leaves me cute notes with hearts that say she misses me and make my heart hurt and I hang them in my office so I can see them every day. We didn’t get to go on our annual sisters and kids trip this year, and it was 38 degrees this morning, signaling the end of summer, but we didn’t go to the end of summer picnic and I haven’t seen my grandpa since January. I officially resigned from my violin lessons, after paying for them for eight months while not attending.
We’re adapting. It’s not always pleasant, and it’s easy to be overwhelmed by things that are out of our control.
You guessed it, the dieting and the hair parting are ways I can add things I can control. Quit psycho-analyzing me! (I should have had those shots!)
Hope you’re finding ways to cope and adapt. And if you want to use that fake shower thing, you have my blessing.
That’s called, “Putting on a good front.”
Nic
NickNackPaddyWhack-ed 