I started my day at 6, left the house at 7, and I won't be home until 9.
My son is teething and getting himself into "I want to wake up and be held and fed and loved every 3 hours almost every night, and freaking forget getting me to take a decent nap during the day" cycles.
I am so tired I want to cry. And fall down. And maybe vomit a little. And quit.
I can't quit. I have responsibilities and I am a wife and a mother and we need my income for to live. But sometimes it feels nice to scream the words into my head and just pretend. "GUESS WHAT WORLD? IQUITIQUIT!"
Exhaustion is, at least as far as I am concerned, the absolute greatest diet-murderer ever. It kills my resolve to diet, and makes me want to eat every sweet thing and carb in the house "for energy". And forget exercise. It feels like exercise just to get out of bed. Zumba is starting to gather dust.
Just the same, I'm proud of a couple parts of my life:
1) I'm doing crunches every day. Meaning, as soon as I dig down past all the belly chub, I'm prepared to find the sexy six pack I'm currently building deep down under there.
2) I'm reading my Bible every day. This is my 6th time through, and I'm doing a pretty dang good job (read: better than normal for yours truly) of reading daily. This year, I intend to finish fast, so I'm trying to read 2 days worth every day.
3) I am working a ton. My productivity is impressive, and I'm putting my nose to the grindstone and GETTING POO DONE. It stresses me out, but I'm doing it and it's getting done.
Those are it. I feel like I'm on survival mode, and being able to say these things about myself feels good, even though I weigh about a million pounds and feel I've been rising more days than falling. I know one day I won't be quite so tired, or I'll learn better coping skills, and I'll lose weight again.
But for today, I managed not to quit. I managed to get a few things done. Cheers to me.
Happy Hump Day, Y'all. Hope yours is productive and special and all kinds of awesome sauce!