Last week's list of the GOOD:
1. I just finished reading The Hunger Games trilogy. Oh my – it’s been a long time since I’ve been so transported by a book. It reminded me of when I was a kid, and things weren’t so great at home, and how I’d walk to the library (by myself! At 8 years old! In NYC!), grab a great big armful of books, haul them home and lose myself in the surety that there was a world outside of my own private misery. These books had the same effect, and I pretty much wore out the battery in my Kindle light laying in bed, listening to my husband’s soft snores and losing my own sadness in the story. It kind of makes me want to start working on the fiction project that I’ve been up and down about over the years.
2. I injured my foot last weekend, and we were all pretty sure that it was a stress fracture, and that I’d be out of the running for the 20k I signed up for. Thankfully, with rest and a styling special shoe, it feels much better and I should be back to training in a week or so. I cannot wait – I am so antsy to go for a run! I guess I’m addicted to that runner’s high.
3. Work is going okay – I think my boss is so scared that I’ll leave because of the growing, pulsating Belly he’ll pretty much give me anything I want. New fax machine (that we’ve been asking for for YEARS!) – done. Laminating machine to make my life easier – done. A new radio because the one we had sucked and could barely get anything but static – done. I need to figure out what else I want before my review
4. The Belly. I think, as painful as working with her is, as much as her fullness illuminates my flatness, as much as her talk of her growing boy makes me long for my lost Ocho, and all that came before him – I think this will be good for me, in the long run. I have contact with a pregnant woman, due just weeks after my Ocho should have been, and yes I cry in the bathroom sometimes, but it hasn’t killed me. If I can live through this, and all that is to come with the birth and baby talk and all of it, I can survive anything. I’m proud of myself for being able to like her, to smile at her and chat with her like I am just a normal person (even if I sometimes have to cover up the swell in my eyes with a well timed sneeze). I am a survivor.
Side note: So, since I haven’t been able to work out as hard core as I’d like, I let my super healthy lifestyle slide for a bit…… and got a bit stinking drunk on Saturday. We had some friends over, and were having a good time acting like morons, until I slipped on the straps to my aforementioned styling shoe, and took a header into the wall. I think I knocked myself out for a moment, and now I have a giant fat bruised lip, a swollen bruised nose, and a giant painful bruise on my back from hitting something when I landed. Hubby’s been calling me Rocky since then.
Lesson learned. Alcohol is bad. Alcohol when you are gimpy and acting like a fool and there are walls everywhere is really bad. I’m on hiatus again. At least until the next miscarriage