Today should have been a fantastic day. I got out of work at noon, and headed to try on my freshly-altered wedding dress. Sounds like a recipe for awesome, right?
But it was overwhelmingly…mediocre.
I’m already in a bit of a funk, because the Evil Holiday Of Looking Like a Fool (if you’re me, anyway) is nigh. Rather than be a crabapple to everyone around me, I’m kinda just chillin’ solo, at least for tonight. Plus, the heat has decided to return to San Diego. People seem to be rejoicing about the sun and the warmth…but all I can dwell on is how icky and sweaty I am.
Probably not the best way to walk into David’s Bridal.
So I tried on my dress (after much struggling with my shapewear and the dress itself, because the seamstress kept wandering off, and I’m all HELLO, I CANNOT DO THIS MYSELF). I have a hard enough time trying to put on a bra with 3 hooks. Trying to put on this crazy bra/bustier contraption with, like, 20 of them was downright impossible. Plus, the specifics of my dress itself (which I cannot discuss in detail, because, you know, the fiance reads this) are also impossible to manage by oneself. The dress fits, and looks good. At least as far as I can tell.
Considering that I wear black shirts and ill-fitting jeans 99.44% of the time, I may not be the best judge.
I don’t know if it was because I was by myself, or if I was just annoyed at the heat and the Halloween-ness surrounding me, but I wasn’t all WOW this time around. I also didn’t have my veil with me either – maybe that contributed, I don’t know. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t feel particularly bridal. Shouldn’t I be bursting into tears of joy and glee and glowing from it all?
So I came home and nearly fell and sprained my ankle while getting the dress out of the car. Those who know my klutzy history should not be surprised. So now I’m hot, sweaty, nearly injured and lugging my purse, tote bag, bag of shoes and shapewear and my dress into the house.
I decide I need food. I was going to hit up Quizno’s, because I love their veggie sandwich and hadn’t eaten there in a while. But I ended up going into Ralph’s and grabbing some of their sushi. Normally, I avoid supermarket sushi, but they actually had someone there making it. In front of me. So I felt a bit more confident about the quality. She was dutifully whipping up some California Rolls and said to me, “You’re not wearing a costume today!”
Interestingly enough, neither was she. Unless she was just dressing up like a Sushi Chef Employee From Ralph’s. Which would be really bad. But apparently I am the freak of nature for not wandering around San Diego on this sunny Friday afternoon dressed like a Slutty Pirate or something.
I head home, and proceed to eat the 45 pounds of sushi that I bought, in my 400 degree sweatbox of an apartment. I LOVE sushi, and since my eyes are usually bigger than my stomach, I ended up buying (and therefore eating) more than I needed to. So, shortly after gorging on more than my fair share of Spicy Tuna Avocado Rolls, I feel icky. Not because the sushi was bad (actually it was good), but because I have 45 pounds of sushi in my stomach. 43 pounds of which is rice.
So after sitting around for a bit, doing laundry and washing the dishes that were piled in the sink over the past day or two, I decide to work out. For 2 hours. In my 400 degree apartment. So while I’m doing a variety of workouts from shows that I DVRed and the selections from OnDemand, I am sweating. And drinking water to replenish my fluids. Which, when added to the rice already in my belly, just makes me feel bloated and miserable.
And I may have done something to my ankle while working out. Not sure.
And then, of course, about 6 hours later, I was hungry again. And I just scarfed down more pasta than anyone should be allowed to eat.
Seriously, I am a self-sabotaging asshole. I could have been in a caloric deficit today, but noooooooooo. Plus, I feel icky and bloated again.
*smacks self in the head*
I really don’t think I can handle any more working out tonight, as I am achy and very tired. I guess I know what I’m doing tomorrow…