I'm speaking of mis tres gatos largos. Today is the day the D's would have moved in, had they not come to their senses over the weekend :) Sometime between my last post and the weekend, my sister reevaluated the shortcomings of their plan to move into my little house with their family of five, which would have ended up being three adults, three little boys, and three cats in 1300 square feet of sheer FUN. Yeah, fun for ME because I would have continued to be gone 10 hours or so a day. It wasn't going to be fun for her to act as single mom so much during the week, and my BIL would have wanted to drive back and forth, and they would have gone broke paying for gas, and my nephews would have developed feline phobias, and my sister would have lost her mind, and...and... anyway, they rented an apartment in S.A., in between my BIL's work and my parents, which is a smart location for grandkids.
How do I feel? Well contrary to what may be popular belief, I did not feel instant and intense relief. In fact, I felt disappointment tinged with a sadness. And yes, a little bit of relief, but not at first. Nicolee and I had started making big plans for the summer, and I was fantasizing about having a "real family" waiting for me at home, and even having company more often than not. I was thinking it would be a great opportunity to jump-start myself out of my current slump. I was envisioning waking up earlier, maybe in time to take a walk or eat a real breakfast; having a reason to go home at night instead of hitting a restaurant or mall; going for walks around town lake with my nephews; etc etc.
And now? I guess I'm going to have to reach deep within myself and find enough personal motivation to do these things anyway. Because I definitely am ready for a change. I've had these epiphanies before, every few years, when I suddenly decide that I hate my body enough FOR REAL to do something about it. It has been way too long since I've had this motivation. Now is the time, I'm thinking. Not just for the sake of aesthetics, but for the sake of my health. If I start deteriorating now, in my 30s, it's only going to get worse -- and I would hate to finally get in shape in my 50s and then be pissed off that I "wasted" my younger years on the couch. I think about this a lot. As I lounge on the couch and watch Law & Order reruns. It troubles me.
The only way this will work is if I am accountable only to myself. I am doing it for me, not for all the cute boys in Austin who only date skinny girls, not for America's Top Model, the producers of which have incidentally been beating down my door. No, although those are good reasons, the most important reason has to be selfish. It has to be ME.
Important Hair Update: this is Day 4 of Mousse Hair... and I have to admit that it's growing on me. Is that weird?? I mean, the 80s rocked, right?
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