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Archive for August 26th, 2009

This is going to be short.  I don’t know what the heck is wrong with me.

If I wasn’t deep into menopause I’d diagnose myself with PMS because I definitely feel like cussing and kicking and being a bitch.   There’s no good reason for this.

I feel like some sort of blimp tank which is ironic since I’ve just lost 30 pounds, but maybe I should not have gotten out the tape measure this morning.  I was curious about what size I am since all my pants are basically falling off me.   And the good news is my pants are falling off me.  The bad news is I’m still a pudgy soft person.   When I discovered my waist was 35 inches all I could think was “Jesus, I must have had a 40 inch waist last year, how disgusting is that.”  What happened to that 25 inch waist I had when I was 18?   I’m not even going to talk about my hips.  The place I have really effectively dropped size is my breasts.   Whoopdedo, Jim is not all that thrilled about them disappearing.   They haven’t disappeared, they have just moved south.  Maybe that’s why my waist is so big.

Yesterday I decided I needed to remove a blemish from my face and it is gone.  Instead I have a nice bruise so I also look like I got into a bar fight recently.   I know better than that, but I just needed to get that thing out of my skin.  Way to go girl, perfect way to prepare for a marital reunion.

Oh well,  this reminds me of the time I stupidly put a product on my face that had that acid I can never remember the name of that is supposed to slowly make you have less wrinkles and make you look younger.  I was in a product testing pool.   It sure the heck worked because in a matter of hours I looked like I was 14 years old again with pimples and acne all over my face.   It only took about  two weeks for my skin to settle down.   And people wonder why I distrust cosmetics companies.

Well, I need to go walk the dog because as soon as my early evening appointment is finished I have to jump in the car and drive to St. Louis to pick up Jim at the airport.  Then he’ll drive us home so we won’t have to fund another night in a hotel.  Doesn’t that sound like a real fun night?

Oh, and I have a bunch of damn chigger bites too.

I’ll probably be all happy and in a good mood tomorrow, right?

Right?

I think I may need some dark chocolate.  Or something.

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