I Can See Clearly Now

Day 8

Weight 152.75

Mood: Healed

My mood lifted on Friday morning. After 2 weeks of hard labor in the Progesterone-depleted desert, I’ve emerged. I’ve had a couple of hiccups, but I can tell that I’m better able to handle the Life’s Little Moguls with less stress. I made it through an intense work week, I managed to get DS off for his weekend with X without crying (in front of him), and I’ve started kissing Howard again. I didn’t even mind it too much that Maria the Spectacular wasn’t at Weight Watchers this week. The Dark Days have passed.

I lost all 3 of the Period Pounds and even succeeded in shaving off an extra 0.25 for good behavior. I’m still hosting the ‘wiggles’ at the waist line, but I can see my figuring returning, and last night I wore my size 3s for Married Night Out. Good times.

I must keep writing. Writing records my daily emotions, and that gives me the “in” I need to see the bad days and then figure out how to prune them. And exercise could help. Keeping active would give me something to do other than count Howard’s battle scars and behave like an exposed nerve wrapped around a dentist’s drill.

I’ve been thinking for days about where to go from here. I want to plot out a plan to Roto-Rooter the ‘angries’ out of me, or to find enough peace inside my swirling self to acknowledge the mood swings and accept them with a laugh. I keep analyzing and bargaining and calculating, and nothing sounds good.

So I’ve decided to give up. Rather than fret or predict or regret, I’m just going to Be. I’m going to enjoy my good mood. There’s really nothing else to do anyway, other than push out my good mood by worrying about the carnage from next month’s free fall. Worrying about its inevitable onset will only prolong the agony. And nobody wants that. Just ask Howard.

A the G(uess Who Went to Yoga This Morning?)

PS-Holy Crap! 350 words!