Maybe

Well, I got a very disappointing "maybe/probably" (when I was praying for a "no way") for stressful item number one on this week's schedule. Item two is tomorrow, and it's a big one. A big, fat NO is REQUIRED, so send out your good vibes for my vague issues. I'll tell all later, but I don't want to spill the beans until all is said and done, and hopefully over.

Weigh in this morning was 185, from 187.5 last week, which gives me 2.5 for the week (more than I deserve, given the Valentine meal) and 7 total since the 1st. Honestly, I could care less. With everything else, I just want to sleep or read or escape my brain in some way. I ate a comfort food lunch, but it's not a super bad one. Just a revolting family macaroni dish (very likely dating back to the depression- has that sort of making-do-ramshackle quality). Corbin's bag-o-temptation remains on the kitchen counter, and I feel like sticking my head in it.

Did I mention that it's my premenstrual psychosis week? That always helps me keep a reasonable perspective on things. What else can I whine about? On the plus side, Miss E's love affair with my midsection continues. She was gazing fondly at it while I was getting dressed yesterday. Me: What are you doing? Her: Looking at your belly. Me: Yeah? Whaddya think? Her: It's... ADORABLE! God, I love her.