Sorta clutching at finding something to write about tonight. But since I said I’d write every night, I’m writing every night. Sometimes it’ll suck. I suspect this is one of those times.
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I was sitting…well laying really, on the futon in the little one’s room this evening, listening to my husband bathe the baby, my hands behind my head and my feet up on the arm of the thing, and I got to feeling just a little self-important. Not really sure what came over me, but I can describe as a wave of unadulterated self-worth.
Now I know that this isn’t really something to crow about, except that it doesn’t happen to me all that often. But I was just sort of thinking how cool it is that I am good enough at what I do to be an independent contractor and be able to make good money with a few clients. That WHAT I do is something I can do from home so I don’t have to go into the office except now and again for a meeting or something. And some of the work I do is for the National Cancer Institute, so I feel like sometimes it might actually mean something in the grand scheme of the universe.
So I get to do my job and I get to also take the time to run my home properly…laundry, paying the bills, getting the kids fed and homework done, making sure schedules work out so they can be off to wherever it is they need to go. All of that. And it’s like I’ve maybe made some good decisions along the way that have led me to where I am. Accidental ones to be sure in many cases, but I guess they’ve been good.
Now see this is where I tend to get in trouble with this whole trying to lose weight business. Because I use this success at most other facets of my life to excuse and justify the desire to stuff my face with whatever I want.
But that’s the thing…what happens if…and this is a big if…what happens if I manage to lose some weight and actually go back to being <gasp> moderately hot?
Is it possible to be successful, happy with a good life, AND be good looking?
No way. Something’s gotta give, I’d think. If that actually came to pass, I would be forced to hate myself – because I’d be the person I’d want to hate because they had it all. Either that or I’d be constantly looking for some piece of space junk to come down on my head.
And anyway, it’s kinda moot because now I’m old, so the whole “hot” ship has sailed I’m afraid. But maybe I can be “hot for an old broad”. I’d be okay with that. Maybe someone would put that on my headstone, or urn, or whatever. “She was hot…for an old broad.”
Yeah – that would be okay with me.
See now, there’s a goal I can get on board with.
