Comet Smells Funny

Still sleepy. Changing pillows tonight; maybe that will help some.

Tomorrow I have my weigh-out for the program I’ve been doing these last 8 weeks, and I’m pretty freaked out about it. I’ve done this thing at least twice before, and each time lost a substantial amount of weight. This time, I’ve stayed exactly the same. No loss. This is all according to my home scale, so I might even have put on a pound. If I lose this thing by one pound, I’m going to cry. I don’t care if my forfeited money goes to charity. It’s not about the money, it’s the fact that I’m a big fat failure. I hate feeling like a loser. And I’m hungry. I had a banana, but it’s not happening. I’m debating buying a granola bar.

I’m eating lunch now. The smell of pizza next door was making me crazy hungry, so I am avoiding temptation with a Lean Cuisine. It’s actually pretty good.

I did actually run those four miles yesterday. Hopefully that’ll burn off some lingering excess calories. I don’t know how far I can run today, but 3 miles sounds good—it’s supposed to be all the way up to 45 on Thursday, so maybe I’ll grab my brother and run outside. That’ll be three runs this week, and my underwear will fit right again. Blech.

OK, enough topical weight-loss blog. Moving forward.

I’m actually all excited about getting home tonight, so I can clean my bathroom. Yes, I’m excited about that. I’ve discovered that if I plan to clean on my days off, that shit just doesn’t happen. I rarely spend my days off at home. I’ll spend the morning in, drinking tea and doing yoga and such, but after noon I’ll get right out of the house. I’ll go grocery shopping, to my mother’s, the mall—in summertime I’ll just go downtown and walk around, either by myself or with whomever calls me that day. I can’t sit around the house and chill all day, although I really should use my one day off to rest—and if I did, maybe I wouldn’t be so tired—but it makes me feel skuzzy. Why in the world would MS Word know the word “skuzzy”? And why does it prefer the ‘k’ spelling to the ‘c’ spelling? The world may never know.

But my bathroom… is icky. Like, skuzzy-with-a-k kind of icky.

I was possessed to clean it when I came home last Saturday to find all of the Christmas decorations taken down, the floor vacuumed, and the room rearranged. I just hung my head and heaved a big sigh, because I knew it meant I would get hell for not helping with the cleanup. There was no amount of apologizing, or explaining that I really needed to go grocery shopping that morning while the cleaning was being done, because it would never help my case. When you live with other people, you end up getting angry at whoever’s not there when you clean a communal space. It always happens. If you’re the one cleaning, you’re the responsible tenant, and anyone not participating in the cleaning process is a slacker. And if you’re the slacker, you are legally liable for taking any and all shit from the responsible people about the cleaning you missed. So basically, the only way to redeem yourself is to do something equally grueling that gives you an equivalent amount of pissy-ammo in case they ever wanna go there.

Which brings us to the bathroom. This should more than make up for my un-decorating absence; there weren’t any cleaning products, old urine, dirt, dust, mold or questionable stray hairs involved in that process. Hopefully my roommate will just kvell over how sparkly the new loo is, forget all about the Christmas decorations, and we can go back to zero. I just don’t like knowing that someone’s doing more work than I am. I don’t like feeling like I’m sponging off of others. She does more cooking and housework than I do, too, but doesn’t really bring it up. I feel guilty about that. I’m going to have to look up some recipes so I can cook at least one complete meal for when she works late—get the homebody skillz up just a notch. That would be the nice thing to do.

But not tonight. Tonight I am up to my elbows in Tilex and repentance.

There was no pizza left over from the meeting. Good. I would have eaten it if there was. Time to curb cravings with SnackWell cookies.


Popular Posts