Victory

This is the last time I’ll blab about it, but I had a big job interview a week ago…remember?  Lots of excitement, a little a stress, and I was so glad when it was all over.  I forgot to tell you something:

Remember the suit I wore that turned out to have the Hot Mess Hubby’s jacket instead of my own?  Well…I didn’t realize it at the time, but the suit pants were a size smaller.

S M A L L E R!!!

I didn’t realize it until I got home, changed clothes, and saw the tag.  SMALLER!

This got me to thinking about how much smaller I’ve gotten, so I finally whipped out the measuring tape.  I haven’t done that since December 15th.

How much smaller?  8 inches, that’s how much.  I’ve lost 8 inches off my bod in 2 1/2 months.  Go me!

Victory.

DEFEAT

I didn’t get the promotion.  It’s okay, though, really.  In fact, it’s so okay that I don’t even think it’s right to put this under the defeat category.  I did my best, I got the hiring managers to notice me, and ended up feeling great about the whole thing.  There are some amazing possibilities in my future at work and I can’t stop smiling about it.  So technically it’s a defeat, but…who cares, right?

There’s another defeat I need to talk about, though, because I’ve been defeating myself.  I have allowed myself to slack on exercise again – which is horrible because I know I would lose even faster if I would just move more.  It’s not possible for me to move more until Sunday (keep reading, you’ll understand) – but when I get to Sunday, I am hitting the treadmill for 7 days in a row.  It’s time to kick start a better exercise habit.

Not long ago, I tried committing to 6 days of exercise.  I gave myself the choice of either getting on the treadmill or gett’in down with my bad self to “Dance on Broadway” on the PS3.  I got on the treadmill some.  I danced on Broadway twice.  I spent the rest of the week like this:  get home, turn on laptop, check email, remember my promise to myself, pick up the PS3 controller and look at it, hear BLEEP from laptop & check Twitter, listen to Hot Mess Hubby talk about cars, switch the PS3 controller to the other hand, let Kirby gimme some paw…  Needless to say, there wasn’t much boogying getting done by the end of the week.  I didn’t do what I said I was going to do and it’s bugg’in me.

When it comes to anyone else in my life, I do what I say I’m gonna do.  I try my best not to let people down but I don’t do the same for myself – and I’m not going to succeed in the long run if I don’t grab this bull by the horns right now.  So I’m gonna dumb it down for myself:  no more PS3 for now.  I’m removing the power of choice and going with the treadmill for 7 days straight.  Once I do that, I’ll have a rest day and do it again.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  When I’m comfortably in a new habit, I’ll bring the choices back.

It’s a plan.

The 7 Dwarfs of the Apocalypse

Bloaty, Crampy, Queasy, Bitchy, Craving, Clotty, and Sleepy have arrived in town and set up camp in my uterus.  Bastards!

Today was horrible and tomorrow will be worse.  Saturday will be about the same as today, and by Sunday I should be fine.  I’ll be curled up in a ball for the next several days, popping ibuprofen and clutching the heating pad convulsively.

I’m so glad tomorrow’s Friday.  What about y’all?  Anyone wanna do 7 days of exercise with me?  Hhmmm?