Friday, May 19, 2006

so I thought it was clever to start my reconstruction six weeks before I turned 40. it wasn't. since then, I've hardly ridden my bike(s), swum not at all and actually gone up in weight. the little seam across my right chest is still weeping in one spot, and even though every muscle in me is screaming out to go for a swim in cool water, I know it would be a bad idea: I could actually tear the scar open, or get an infection. so I'm going to turn 40 unfit and overweight. I'd be surprised if any of my nice dresses even fit me. wouldn't it be a shame if I had to go buy a new dress for my birthday drinks? ;)

to console myself, I've had to write out a weight loss-fitness plan for the three months between my birthday and the next surgery. I'm not fat, just heavier than I'd like to be, by at least 5, ideally 10 and at the extreme, 15 pounds.

there are more important things in life, I know. but turning 40, while better by far than not turning 40, is still allowed to bring on a small crisis of self-image. not to mention my career, which is shot/stalled/not receiving great critical acclaim as yet. sigh.

A. has a nasty cough. off to the dr with him in the morning. he's so cheeky these days; constantly testing us. I feel so mean when we put him in his "spot" for very small transgressions, but it's not about the actual refusal to pick up the crayons/hitting of the dog/pushing of Mummy - it's about the refusal to apologise and make amends. it is, in short, the principle of it. sigh. I'll bring up a well behaved human if he hates me for it.

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