That’s one thing she’ll never know

This song has GUTTED me.  *sobsobsob* all over the place.

I’ve gained back 10 pounds in the past…eh, 3 months or so.  I’m a ginormous puffalump again.  I’m trying to get back on track, but DAMN. Food is yummy.

#Onceafatty, always a fatty.  37 years has taught me nothing.  I still think that I can slack off.

Good news, though, is that my insomnia has allowed me the ability to wake up and be at the gym when it opens at 5am.  30 minutes of cardio (as light and halfhearted as it is) is better than no cardio at all.

I spent a delightful Thanksgiving in New Jersey.  My family and my husband get along amazingly well.  I got to see my oldest friend, my high school BFF.  I got to spend quality sister time with the girl I’ve idolized since I was a kid. My family was relatively normal – as much as can be expected for my family.  I slept amazingly well, and ate awesome Jersey food!

Then I came back to reality.  Overworked, and no end in sight.  I feel like a frazzled mess. I’ve said that my ADD gives me the ability to multi-task like a muthafucka, but this is ridiculous.  Between my personal holiday responsibilities, plus work holiday responsibilities (wrapping/labeling client gifts, etc.), plus year-end crap for work, plus the roll-out of a new system sometime early next year that we’re prepping for, plus…you know, my day to day work equaling the workload of a person-and-three-quarters…I’m like W. T. F.

I sat in 80 minutes of traffic tonight, to drive 13 miles.  Then did work from home.  While sippin’ Bailey’s, truth be told.  But don’t tell anyone. *wink*

My calendar is overbooked.  I want to crawl under my bed and hide.  I want to collapse; have a breakdown and be done with it already.  I’m dysfunctionally functional, and it’s fucking draining and exhausting.  But I live in a fucking expensive city, I’m ridiculously in debt, the holidays are coming and I’m trying to build a future with my husband.  Now is NO time to slack off or fuck it all up.  But it’s a lot of pressure for me.

If I could stress the calories off of me, I’d be a size 2.

Alas, no.

I’m exhausted. Time for bed. Do it all again tomorrow.  Then use the weekend to forget it all existed.  A few days of chaotic escape.

 

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About meredithelaine

thirty-something. karaoke diva. just trying to get by.
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