The totally shame-free, actual-life, real-time blog where I tell all, show all--without nagging or whining (all right--maybe a little whining...)--in my attempt to stop being a fat middle-aged woman who avoids mirrors and clothing stores and start being a woman at home in her body...brought to you by a real woman, the Independent Weltha Herself. I won't give any advice, and I'm not asking for any--just companionship on my journey.

Every day...a new post. Every other real weight. Every pictures.

For every woman who has ever tried to just lose the extra weight and feel good...overall and about herself...and who lived to tell the story.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Day the 100th

Have you ever noticed that when you make plans, life tends to happen? No, I didn't originate the cliche...just employed it shamelessly.

Today is Day 100 of the One Year Of Getting Weltha's Weight Under Control.

And I thought it would be a spectacular post today. Maybe I would do a shout-out and homage to a friend. Maybe I would say something really deep and meaningful. Maybe I would cure cancer or create world peace...

But no, that's not what's happening. This morning, because I have been tired, tired, tired from all the excitement of Finding New Digs, I turned off my alarm and thought, "I'll sleep just a few more minutes." I had set the alarm to 5:45 because I needed to get up, do my hair, iron my blouse, do my makeup and get out the door early to get to work...early. Why? Because I was going today to a funeral--the one I mentioned yesterday, for our St. Jerome's Cantor, Kathy C's father, and I wanted to look nice, particularly because a group of us from the St. J's Choir were going to be leading two hymns. And because we're Anglican, and Kathy's father was Assembly of God, these were two hymns that not all of our people were really familiar with. Well, they're ones we don't sing much or sometimes at all. Nothing wrong with either group--we just sing different things.

I mean, I didn't think all eyes would be on me but I wanted to look appropriate. That's why I took myself shopping yesterday for a dress--and saw nothing but stuff I wouldn't wear to a dog-fight (not that I go to dog fights. I'm just sayin'...) so I found a beautiful, elegant, long black sweater and decided to pair it with black trousers and shoes and a white shirt. It wouldn't have hurt if I had had a black necklace but I wasn't thinking that far ahead.

But I didn't get up at 5:45. Or even 6 am. Or even 6:15, etc.

I woke up--thanks to my cat Horatius barfing on the rug--at 7 am.

Keep in mind, I needed to wash and dry my hair and use my flatiron and put on make-up and iron the shirt. And possibly the trousers.

Instead, I took a major fast shower, put serum in my hair and combed it until it was in some semblance of good looks, tried to spray the wrinkles out of the shirt only to create more, and jumped into the clothes, dragged my make-up bag with me, and raced to work. But first, I felt mighty sorry for myself so I stopped at Old School Bagel Cafe and got a lox and cream cheese (with capers. Yes, capers.) on an Everything Bagel along with a Blackberry-Jasmine iced tea and sped off to work only to arrive at 8:30. I never arrive at 8:30. I like to arrive at 7:30 so that I can settle into the morning and then get started a bit early. But no...

Then, I slapped on make-up--and I do mean slapped--during my 10 am break and finally left out of here at 11:15 so I could be part of the practice. Which practice didn't happen and that's okay, but I mean, there I was.

Oh, and during the service, I flashed back to the funerals of both my parents so I sat there and tears leaked out of my eyes and down my face. At least Bishop--who was sitting behind me in our "off to the side" section--also needed a hanky so I poked Preston and got him to hand me a Kleenex. And it was great to be there for Kathy, and I took Rescue Remedy Pastilles like they were M&Ms, but I still felt emotional. And I left and came back to work and felt...that hollow, jittery feeling you have when you have been emotional.

So...I have had the Lox and Cream Cheese Bagel, 2 little lavash sandwiches set out on a tray at work from some meeting (they didn't seem to have too many awful things in them) and now, some cashew-butter-on-a-spoon. All washed down with filtered water and more Rescue Remedy.

The moral of the story is this: don't expect life to kow-tow to your need to Make A Statement On A Milestone Day.

However, I am happy to say that I'm pretty much--as far as I can tell--on target for my weight to be settled out by this Christmas. Which will be more than 1 year, but hey! who's countin'?

Tomorrow, I will be the smarty, sassy Weltha. I sat next to Woodstock at the service and he said I could post the picture Rack B took of the two of us at our church's Annual Meeting, so when I do the Woodstock homage, you will be able to see me looking much lovelier and you will see Woodstock with his eyebrow raised in askance. Or something.

Meanwhile, thank you all for being a community of bloggettes that lets me talk about frivolous stuff, about my weight, about my ongoing battle with actually exercising, and above all, about my life as it is happening.

Oh, one more zinger in this day: at work about 10 minutes ago, I spilled a great big wad of cashew butter...on the new black sweater. And yes, I have been manfully (womanfully?) trying to get it out and will have to do a little gentle soaking with some mild detergent in that spot. So much for a brand new, elegant article of clothing...

Through all of this, I'm smiling to myself because life is so very good. And I have you to enjoy its goodness with me. Thanks. I can't do this without you all.



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