this is why i'm here.

whoever mentioned eating light laughing cow cheese on a rice cake in their blog, thank you.

it has become the highlight of my miserable days.

if I had gotten a card, it would read something like this...

so, my husband and children did nothing for me for mother's day.
my 15 year old daughter was asked by someone what she was doing for me, and she said
"nothing. i'm good to my mom every day."
my mom and my aunt both said to me, seperately...
"well, maybe you can work your way up at the gym and work in the daycare!"
(because being an instructor isn't the top of the fucking pyramid?)
and seeing happy, normal functional families everywhere, moms smiling, kids giggling...
all the happy facebook updates about how fabulous my friends were treated by their kids...
makes me downright suicidal.

i mean, if my own kids at their young ages take me for granted now, what hope do i have??
i am deeply alone.

so I popped a handful of laxatives,  a big glub of cold medicine,
and i went to bed at 5PM.

next year,
i am booking myself a hidden hotel room.
i am going to get a pedicure, drink mojitoes,
eat pizza and chocolate,
and lay in the pool all day
under the glaring eyes of all the fat moms that are around.

i should be downright skeletal by then.

i have a full year to starve.

the only good thing that happened was that my mother in law showed me pictures from easter, and wow.
i am skinny.
bony.
i didn't really know it.
i need to get my hands on those photos.

it's the little things...

i got paid!!!

for working out!!!

i am SO happy.

ironic that my check and my mortgage payment posted on the same day.

puts things into perspective a bit, right??

waif no more?

so i do love my job.
and the things that come with it...
like lots of strenght training for free...
lifting with co-workers...
nutritional talk all the time.
reps pushing supplements and drinks down my throat...

but...
i miss that
"if i sneeze i might break" feel

i've become strong.

and i don't think i like it.

rpm

well, this is it.

this is the view i have when i'm working.

well, actually, i am looking at a bunch of sweaty people...

but when i've got my headphones on and i'm working out a class on paper, this is what i look at.

i REALLY love my job.

i have three subbing gigs in the next two weeks.

i am the only person who gets asked to sub.

i think this says a lot.

fitness is a cut-throat business.

i see people stabbing each other in the back for clients on a daily basis.

in general, clients in a gym respond best to whoever pets them the most.

i want no part in this.

i want to put out a good class.

i want my people to drip sweat.

i want them to have fun, maybe make friends and find support.

i want...

just my little classes.

in my little gym.

i have no greater ambition.

and i think my coworkers appreciate this.

back to 600

i'm deep into a dark period right now.
i'm missing a boy that i love that i can not have.
my fear is that since i have no hope of having him again, i will become fat.

i'm working my way thru this at the moment by submerging myself in a diet completely of vita-muffins and whey protein powder.
i think this will give me just enough oomph to still instruct.
and not enough to gain.
i want to lose.

i need to lose ten more.
control..
for i can not control the other...
that thing that brings me down.

i hate knowing exactly what my trigger is.

my darkness feels like it needs some flirting to solve it.
i hate this part of me.


did i tell you that the lad i was flirting up at the gym turned out to be seventeen?
yeah, i saw him when i dropped off my DAUGHTER.
at the HIGH SCHOOL.
and he's my boss' baby brother??

they should make those kids wear signs, i swear.

and i'll be the coat check girl.

so today after yoga, the girl who told me i was
"looking bigger up top"
decided to tell me that my
"face was looking less puffy"

my body fat is 20.6%
hers is 32.8%

puffy, huh?

on an up-note, one of my trainer friends is opening a fancy strip club.