Dragula

 Hi Guys,

Uffda. I had a hard time this morning. I felt good when I woke up but it was a slow drag to get moving. Drag myself out of bed, drag myself to the bathroom, got on the scale – was infuriated and cried, dragged myself out to feed the cats and make my coffee, dragged myself to my altar to meditate, dragged myself into the bathroom again to brush my teeth and do my morning skincare routine, dragged my clothes on, dragged myself out to the dining room to get my work bag filled, dragged myself down to my car and here I am.

This weight thing, it’s getting to me. I’ve gained 9 pounds and the scale just doesn’t want to budge.

I’m sick of being the fat chick. 

It’s not about bagging a man, I could care less about that as you all know. 

It’s about feeling my best.

But.

Whatever.

Yes, I’m blogging at work.

But I’m being Denise-ish about it. I’ll copy and paste this to my gmail. Then go on my phone and copy and paste it into my blog and there you go.

Yesterday was hard in the sense that in spite of what I’m being paid, there’s not a lot to do. If this was all planned out, I would have this all done in two weeks.

So I really, really struggled. But every hour I get up and do a little walk about so that I’m moving. I go to the bathroom. Peeing is no problem, I always have to pee. I’m back to shooting for 8 glasses of water a day.

I got in about 7 yesterday.

So. I had a list for last night and I’ll be damned if I didn’t get it done. I never go that hard in the evenings and I was tired, that’s for sure.

How do “normal” people do this? Keep up this pace?

I’m trying to calm down about everything I want to be doing; working out, getting my YouTube up and running again, time. Time just slips through my fingers.

But I did get a lot done last night, I didn’t just melt into the couch.

I saw my former roomie last night and he is not doing well. He’s been getting radiation and chemo and although the prognosis is very good, it’s affecting him. He has always worked, he has an incredible work ethic but he has now taken off about 6 weeks and for me, that more than anything told me he’s not feeling well. 

It makes me so sad.

And I can’t help but think about my Dad and how it was for him. This is not that, I mean, my roomie has a good prognosis, it’s just getting through the next month will be hard for him.

I called my sister and cried a bit. 

Just sad.

And I cried this morning. It’s not so much of the why do I have to do this, meaning work, it’s more of I can’t do all this.

But I can and I will and as for the scale, well fuck the scale.

I’m still Denise.

My worth is not valued in weight.

My daughter gets off work at like, 4 today so I will go right from my job to pick her up and I’m gonna push for her to clean and stuff tonight because they are doing an inspection Friday and they are picking random apartments. I want ours clean.

I always want ours clean. It’s like the never ending story, keeping this tiny little space clean.

I’m trying to find a place for Pumpkin to go that day because we are only supposed to have 2 cats and if they come in our apartment, we’re busted.

I might check and see if my roomie is up to having her for the day. I could drop her off in the morning and bring her back in the evening.

This stuff is all such a pain.

But it’s worth it. She’s worth it. I love that “little” cat so much.

I want to see my sister’s pup, Chatty. I haven’t seen Chatty in a hot minute. She’s so sweet, that little girl.

Soon.

Alright, well, I better go.

Get on with this day and have it be what it is.

I hope yours is good.

Be Blessed.

Love & Light,

Neecie