So I’m a little over 7 months out now and the scale isn’t budging. I know why. Not enough protein. Not enough water. Not enough exercise. Not enough food on some days. It’s been the same story for the past few months. While I’d like to blame it on my thyroid, that’s probably not the case. In any event, I’m seeing a new endocrinologist at Cleveland Clinic in a few weeks.
I went to Grand Luxe for dinner tonight with some friends. I posted some pictures of me in a pair of gorgeous, very stylish jeans that Marcia gave me. The size? XXL!!
Now to some different changes. After the American Heart Association Walk I did earlier this month, I went into the local deli to pick up some meats to make a deli platter for my party. The guy who helped me was really nice. He saw the button I was wearing (it was of DH waving and everyone that walked in our team wore one) and asked me about it. I was a mess. I had been crying in the car on the way back, it was hot and I just was a misery. I told him and he gave me his condolences. He helped me put the platters together and when we were done, he introduced himself and shook my hand and said that it was great meeting me and that he hoped I had a good party.
I go into this deli several times a week but had never seen him before. I went in the following week a few times to pick things up for lunch and for the office. He was always nice to me and we would chitchat. My boss said that she saw him looking for me when I left the deli counter to walk around the store. My orders in the deli are weird: ¼ lb of chicken salad, 2 meatballs, ¼ pound of mushroom salad. I mean, what the heck am I going to do with a pound of anything? I figured he thought I was a nut.
Two Thursdays ago he asked me for my phone number and I FREAKED out. He said that we should get together for dinner. I happened to have one of my business cards with just my office number so I gave that to him. I didn’t know what else to do.
I didn’t go into the deli for a few days.
He called me and asked me to go out to dinner the following Friday. I told him I had a bachelorette party to go to. I didn’t, but I panicked. I am not ready to go out on a date. To me that sounded like a date.
I told my SIL (DH’s sister) what happened and she was more than thrilled. She and I couldn’t be closer if we were in the womb together. She insisted I go back in to the store and talk to him and go for coffee. I am so not ready for romance of any kind. I guess she sensed what I was feeling because she said, Not for romance, she said, but “to be amongst people.” Apparently she thinks all I do is work and spend time with family and a few close friends. I don’t see anything wrong with working and spending my time the way I have. She said that DH would not want me to be sitting around and not socializing. Truth be told, we NEVER talked about what we would do when one passed. Who, at this age, would talk about such things??? I always thought I was going to get Alzheimer’s and he was going to take care of me.
So I went back in to the store and we talked some more. As much as you can talk in between ordering this and that. My friends say that I radiate a happiness that makes people want to be with me and get to know me. I don’t feel happy so I guess I’m a good actress. He mentioned again that we should get together and took out his cell phone, to give me his number and I gave him mine.
We talked on the phone the other night for about an hour (I missed “American Idol!”). About 20 minutes into it we were talking about food (of course) and he said something like, “I think I should tell you that I have a problem with food” and I blurted out “I do too. I had bariatric surgery” and his response? You want to know what his response was? “So did I.” He lost 90 pounds and had the bypass 3 years ago.
Suddenly I didn’t feel like the fat ugly girl trying to prove that she was trying to lose weight.
Anyway, so that’s where I am now. Still trying to get through each day the best I can. Still trying to take advantage of this gift that I’ve been given.
I am going to join 24 hour Fitnessn tomorrow.
Love,
Stacey