Last night was just like our average, every day night. I got home from work, went to the gym with my fiance (I can bench 65 pounds, but I still can’t do a pull-up!), came home, did our Costco run, ate dinner (yay for green smoothies with protein and flax..lately I have not been feeling solid meals for dinner) and relaxed for a bit. Oh, and we had our first dance class for the wedding. I definitely have two left feet and a very, very hard time ‘following’. Apparently I need to let go of all control…not something I am good at. But all in all, it was a great night.
After we got home and I showered, I perched in my usual, comfy spot on the bathroom counter and begun on the ever so tedious task of plucking my eyebrows (which had been neglected for far too long). Well, guess what? They’re falling out. The edges used to be full, and now they’re falling out. They’re pencil-thin and it’s not from plucking. This made me sad. My skin is also getting even drier. The inside of my nostrils is cracked and raw and has been for months, but now it’s spreading to my cheeks and forehead, as well. This has been one of those symptoms that no doctor can explain. It could be from the Hashimoto’s, and it could be from any number of other causes. Oh well, all I know is that I look like a lizzard and it hurts.
I ran downstairs to my fiance and asked him the question he has to receive at least 3 times per week… “Is it too late to call Grandma??!” (she is in another time zone). Grandma is my go-to for times like these, she always seems to understand. I think we are ‘soul sisters’, or whatever you want to call it. She just understands me. Even when I’m being crazy, she has a special way of making me feel like she knows exactly what I am going through. Well, despite his answer of “probably”, I decided to take the risk. Sure enough, Grandma was sleeping. I’ve made this mistake before and had her groggily answer the phone, knowing I’m the only one who would call that late, but luckily this time I did not interrupt her. Grandpa and I had a quick talk, but I didn’t want to keep him from his Baseball game he was currently watching on PVR (oh, to be retired..). I called my Momma and gave her my sob story. She worries about me and told me to go to the doctor. Blah, the doctor cannot do anything for these crazy brows. I said goodnight, got off the phone, snuggled my fiance while I felt sorry for myself for a bit, and forced myself to walk upstairs to bed. Goodnight eyebrows, you a-holes.
I woke up this morning and felt great! I wasn’t bloated, or tired. I actually felt skinny (yayyy for no bloat!). So I thought, what the hell, painted my eyebrows on (hehe) and jumped on the scale. Afterall, I’ve been WORKING MY ASS OFF at the gym AND eating out of tupperware. Oh scale, I hate you. I hate, hate, hate you. Every time I think maybe I lost a pound or two you squash my hopes and my dreams and bring me back to reality. I can feel like an absolute supermodel looking in the mirror, and as soon as I see that stupid number I feel like a beached whale. Psychological abuse, I’d say. I know, I know, it’s ‘just a number’. But why can’t it be a number that is 10 pounds less?! So, I concluded that I need to stop weighing myself…which I probably will until two weeks from now when I am feeling SO great that I must have lost weight.. 😉 and so the vicious cycle begins again!
Today is going to be a good day. I am waiting for a cab to take me downtown to our office’s annual client barbeque for a “Stampede celebration”– I live in Calgary, so this is a big week for us! It is supposed to be almost 30 degrees and I will be downtown all day mingling and watching others enjoy delicious BBQ steak (while I eat salad and lean turkey breast from a tupperware container)…but hey, I won’t be at work! Enjoy your Tuesday, everyone!