I generally try to keep my language as clean as possible, but in my second year of college there were certain days where I would get back to my dorm, close the door, and inform my roommate “Today is a swearing day.” We generally celebrated these days together even if the other one was having a fine day. It’s like drinking, you shouldn’t do it alone. Sugar Muffin (my silly nickname for her) and I would then spend the rest of the day using every four letter word and every crass phrase we could remember. I miss those days…
Today. Was. A. Swearing. Day.
I’ve been trying not to drive to work for a few reasons, the first is that if I take the bus it adds some walking into my day. Since I’m not yet ready to start exercising it is a good way to at least add more movement. The second reason is that it gives me a chance to do certain things that I just don’t take the time to do. An hour on the bus creates an opportunity to purposefully complete a task in an environment where I don’t have twenty distractions.
The third reason was that I was dead broke, only had a quarter tank of gas left, and had a January bus pass already paid for. The fourth reason is that my tabs are expired and I already got a ticket for it. Bloody Hell. A series of very frustrating events yesterday that are long and petty (and probably boring and tedious) say me arriving (running like a mad woman) at the bus stop just on time to see it pull away.
I ended up having to drive to make it on time to work and the paranoid fear of being pulled over again was killing me. I’ve never had a ticket before last Sunday. I had been waiting to get paid to be able to afford the tabs and was only slightly expired. Now I’ll have a blemished record for three years.
Anyway, I tell this story only for the purpose of explaining why today was a testing day. I passed the stress test. I did not deviate from healthy eating. I also passed the temptation test. There were several temptations today. The first was at home. One of the other inmates residents of my appartment had soda in the fridge, coke in a can, to be exact. I don’t know if there is anything better tasting that a cold coke in a can. (Triple illiteration rules!) There was also cake in the fridge and an amazing smell creeping out of the oven. Like a chubby martyr I let nothing deter me from my cause.
When I got to work there were also lots of really good tasting but unhealthy snacks. Thanks Manager. It was a pretty good day at work until the end where I suffered a huge letdown from a client.
After work I went over to my moms for a little to get some things from her. I complained (with the string of four letter words eek!) for a ridiculously long time about my day and then she made me feel mostly better but then offered me some Fudge Brownie Ice Cream or a soda, or a variety of strong drinks. She doesn’t know what I’m doing yet. I’m not going to tell her until she asks because of results. I said no to all of the above but had to go through a series of “Are you sure?” Yes, I am sure.
Altogether, despite my foul mood, I am happy with today. I really hope to see the difference on the scale, I’m terrified that at the end of the week I will get on and it will say that there is no difference. I might cry.