If I stand on the scale in a certain way, it appears I may have lost a pound. If I don’t get a reading I like I keep moving the scale around the room
until it gives me a proper response. But I really think I might be trending downwards right now, and I can thank the looming 40th high school reunion for motivation.
I have 30 days to get rid of this blubber, so the time’s tight. But there’d be nothing worse than attending this thing just as fat as a pig. Far better to arrive svelte and act like you’ve done this oh so effortlessly all these past decades. Now that’s irritating.
And as I said to mom, if you can’t make people angry with envy at a reunion, why go? But I may be the one seething with anger as I’ll likely be one of the beefiest members of the crowd. Oh well.
I’ve managed to keep a tight rein on spending these past few weeks, and suddenly the dam burst. It began quite innocently with a $50 gift certificate to Art Knapps which I’d received from Wendy for my birthday. I bought two gorgeous hot pink Echinacea plants and some other useful stuff.
Then, I realized I hadn’t done my annual birthday gift shopping for myself, so I went to Rosebuds, one of my favourite consignment stores. I tried on 15 dresses, and wouldn’t you know it, I liked three of them so bought them.
Now, heady with the monster being fuelled by purchases, I went to the mall. The mall! That’s got to be like the biggest all-night bar to a drunk. I stumbled around there for awhile, only to end up at the Bay where I bought a nice gold necklace for my new daughter in law.
But I couldn’t help it, as it was 60% off, and then the sign said take another 25% off, so I went mad briefly, and bought it. Dizzy, ecstatic, drooling with anticipation, I decided I hadn’t been to Home Sense in a long time.
Once there, I bought all manner of nice soaps and lotions made in Italy and England, as I thought what could be nicer for the Thai family members than that. Then when I arrived home I started to pile up their purchases and realized I’ll need two suitcases for sure.
There’s still no word on Nicky’s job so we’re both like cats on a hot tin roof waiting to hear. The woman he talks to said it will be one to two weeks before they know. I’m so hopeful he gets this job, you have no idea.
Then it’ll be Girly Spa around here all the time. Lettuce wraps for dinner. Toe nails being painted at any old hour. No tools of any kind in the yard, and anything left exposed will be painted pink.
Hopefully that’ll happen a week or two prior to the reunion so I can do total treatments at home. You know, hot towels on the face, followed by cucumber slices. – the kind of stuff that male offspring find really scary. I have two words for that: buh bye,