The last time that happened it was because I had the flu and it was all body fluids weight.
So let's revisit: Two weeks ago I had gone up nearly eight pounds. I buckled down with protein and fat and did NOT eat the Cinnabon roll that I had been craving...and that I would have had to drive to a mall to find anyway...and then guess what else? Ladies, you know what I'm talking about: It was the week before my period. Yeah, my doctors can't believe that at 52 I'm as regular as a clock, either. I'm not enjoying it and plan on seeing a GYN in the new year to make. it. stop. Thirty-nine years of menstruation is enough already. Seriously.
So I'm going to guess I gained water weight, and then due to buckling down I lost the gained pounds plus six more. I'm inching towards the 100s. I haven't seen those numbers since high school. Seriously.
My skin looks like hell, everwhere, but I admit to enjoying being a size L on top and an XL on the bottom (18). I still have a lot of fat on my belly, but that's not surprising considering I had diabetes for sixteen years. It'll be the last to go. Whatever. I'm fine where I am right now, really. I don't care if I lose another pound.
As for plastic surgery, the only things I would consider it for are my arms if they are super flappy and a rash or worse sets in--and I'm not at that point--and if my belly ends up lying on my pubic bone. That's it. No body or boob lifts. I'm at the age where this stuff is starting to go anyway and I wouldn't have had plastic surgery on them if I had stayed obese. Sort of like I have a lot of grey hair, now. I'm still coloring it, but flirting with letting it grow out in its natural color--maybe when I'm closer to 60. Damn. It's not that far away, either. But my quality of life is so so so much better, and as an active diabetic with out-of-control diabetes (and a food addiction), I figured I wouldn't make it out of my 60s alive. Now I have a shot at living longer.
Well, Christmas is nearly here and I'm just not in the spirit this year. I guess all the tsuris of the last six months, the surgery, the moving, the family dysfunction, etc., and I still don't feel settled. I'm going to be spending the next three days at home (alone, I hope. I plan to send my teacher husband who is on break out into the world to go run jump and play so I can finish unpacking. Yes, I am that controlling.).
I wish I could see my nieces this year, but it's just not in the cards. I miss them a lot. I just put their Christmas box in the mail about an hour ago. Nothing huge, a couple tops, a book, two handmade clay pins that I picked up in Laguna Beach when I was there last month with my MIL, and my sister's birthday presents. Uh, yeah, her birthday is in August. So, yeah, I hate going to the post office to stand in line. :-)
I have one more book to order for them but I'll have to do it online; the bookstore itself was sold out.
I'm having a SF Vanilla Latte at Mickey D's, the only thing that I'll really have here outside of an iced tea. (Their food is gross. I quit eating it in 2002 after reading FAST FOOD NATION. You should, too.)
Cheers
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