I got on the scale this morning and my eyes went wide. I didn’t want to lose so much weight while I was sick. I mean, it’s nice to make progress but I don’t like the fact that progress was made because I was too sick to eat. I was convinced that after a week of barely eating and then a weekend without much sleep and less than quality food choices, I would end up showing a gain.

Last night I slept miserably, or rather, I couldn’t sleep because I was giddy. Again, something I thought would cause a gain. I suppose I should just be happy and feel lucky.

I’m not even going to hide the fact that I have only one thing on my mind today and I don’t even want to think about anything else. If I don’t stop gushing about it on twitter than I will probably lose every last one of my followers so I’ll try to curb my enthusiasm. Before doing that, though, please allow me a few choice words.

At 6pm I decided to start getting ready, after all, it takes my hair quite a while to properly air dry into the hot mess it naturally becomes. I didn’t ever think that I would pick the parts of my outfit so carefully and critically. Outfit plans were made and discarded and made again. Underwear was chosen and then rejected, despite having no plans for anyone to actually see my underwear. I just have a thing about it.

At 8pm with outfit chosen, hair (sort of) styled, and new shoes on, I left. I knew that it would take a normal person about a half hour to get there but with my master navigation skills, it would probably take me much longer. I was right.

At 8:30pm while I’m swearing at the street signs telling me that I’ve hit a dead end, my phone buzzes. I have a message. My phone doesn’t ring unless you are programmed into it. It’s a message from the boy saying that he was held up at work and that he wouldn’t be able to get there until 9:30 or 9:45. Oh, and he left his cell phone on the bus. Damn Seattle Urbanites and their environmentally friendly methods of transportation! If you would only pollute the earth a little more you’d still have your cell phone and I could call you back.

At 9pm I realize that it’s a good thing he’s postponed a little. I’m still finding parking. Damn Seattle with your lack of parking because of the damn Urbanites who take the bus and make parking a non-necessity.

Deep breaths…

I find parking, move all of the “yes, I totally do my makeup and change in the car” evidence into the trunk and head to where we’re meeting.

I suddenly wonder what in the world I’m going to order for a drink, my two favorites Sex on the Beach and Red Headed Slut just don’t seem like appropriate first date drinkage.

Have a momentary (or possibly extended) “OMG, he’s going to stand me up!” panic and decide to call Sugar Muffin. Apparently she needed her beauty sleep. Bitch. Call Schnookums. Phone’s off. She’s probably with her boy. Call my one and only true friend who answers. She just moved up the rungs in BFF ranking. I tell her that she has to stay on the phone with me so that I look cooler and not so anxious.

It starts pouring. I go inside and check my makeup. Mostly fine. Touch ups applied. More “What if he doesn’t come????” angst. New BFF tells me that she felt the exact same way on her first date with her boy. I remember how hard he worked to get my phone number in the first place.

He walks in. I hang up on One and Only True Friend. We talk for a long time, never remembering to actually get drinks.

I drive him back to his place, glad that I had the forethought to remove aforementioned evidence. It’s only a few blocks away but I tell him that I assume he’s asked for the ride because he wants to spend more time with me and that he ought to indulge my narcissism and not say otherwise. He invites me up to see his apartment, “but really because I want to make out with you,” he says. Can’t argue with that! By midnight I’m thinking about the fact that I have to work today and that I should leave. It’s much harder to actually do so.

I wake up this morning glad that I was smart enough to not mention that I have a blog, glad that he will never have to know about everything that happened in my head before 9:45, and giddy that he said he’d be too distracted at work today because he’d be thinking about me. Cheesy line or sincere? I don’t care. I almost forgot to weigh-in this morning and really didn’t give a fuck what the scale said. Oh, yeah, that’s how this all ties in to weight loss.

Oh, and I have a new topic for Skanky Tuesday.

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