Chelsea Margaret And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

"I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."
Judith Viorst, author of Alexander and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

This has just not been my week...*sigh*

1)Monday, I pulled my back doing Good Mornings at the gym.

2)Later that evening, I slammed my hand in my car door. Then I just stood, looking at my fingers in the door going, "Ow. That kinda fuckin' hurts." Slow.

3)Tuesday morning, I smacked myself in the face doing cable face-pulls. Haven't done 'em in a while, so I started at a light weight. Apparently, too light. Luckily, I have a good sense of humor and bust out laughing.

4)Not ten minutes later, I knocked my head on a shelf at the gym.

5)About two hours later, somehow I ran into the fire extinguisher in my recruiter's office. He sat there and just laughed. I just about shouted, "I GIVE UP!" Then, we were walking out to the parking lot, and I almost broke down crying at his truck. So frustrated. I lost, uh, "girth" in my forearms, wrist, and neck. WRONG EFF'N PLACE!!

6)That evening, when I went to feed my friend's cats, I skinned my knee up. She has this porch that's about 18" high. Normally, I can jump up on it, no problems. Last night, I missed. I don't know how. Again, it was one of those, "Ow. That kinda fuckin' hurts," moments. GRR! When I was going in to feed the cats, I honestly started wondering if there was something physically wrong with me to cause me to be like this. I am starting to get freaked out.


And I have been such an emotional basketcase lately. Hell, I'm starting to tear up even writing this. I weigh 180. I look in the mirror and don't see it. I have these moments where I actually like myself every so often. I have a small waist, good definition in my upper body, and strong legs. Then I get in the scale and weigh 180 and remember what every branch of the military tells me - I'm too fat. Every ounce of self-esteem I might have had goes down the toliet and I'm left standing there wondering why I don't give up on it. Why? Because I want it. Because I want to serve my eff'n country. Because I'm stubborn. I was talking to a friend of mine at the gym today (he was in the National Guard) and I told him what I weighed. He about pissed his pants laughing. "Is that what the recruiters are telling you!?" No. It's what the scale says. I went on this rant about how my mirror says one thing, but the scale/recruiters say another and I just started crying. "I am so frustrated!!" He said it finally clicked with him why I'm so frustrated. "You see one thing and hear another." Then he said he knew I could drop the weight and he had faith in me, yadda yadda yadda. *sigh* I told this all to one of my friends in the Army now and currently in Iraq and he said, "You have to go to the bar and get wasted tonight now. I want to hear stories about how bad you were tommorrow." Haha...good idea. But I hafta focus. Or just stop. Stop working out. Stop dieting. Let my body do it's thanggg...Of course, knowing my body, I'd probably gain about 50 pounds. I'm beginning to hate working out. Hate eating healthy. All that crap. *sigh*

I'm done.