Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Late Night Meandering Thoughts

So this is going to be one of those weird, rambling posts that really has no point and doesn't make a lot of sense. But sometimes I just feel like I should post something. So here goes.

I was thinking about numbers tonight. I had a birthday last week. I always say and act like it's not a big deal. But I kind of wish it was. My husband doesn't buy gifts of any kind, so if I want something, I'll buy it myself. He doesn't make a big deal at Christmas, either. Pretty much anything that involves spending money is out of the question. Anyway, so we didn't celebrate. Only one person at work remembered. My BFF remembered, but she lives a million miles away (approximately). So it was just another day.

If you're wondering how old I am...I always have to stop and think about it. I don't feel as old as I should, I think. Maybe I'm immature or something. When I think about the fact that I've been out of high school for over fifteen years, it's too much for me to comprehend. Even the fact that I've been out of college for over ten blows my mind. My oldest kid is 8, for goodness sakes! I'm a dinosaur. But I don't feel like it, so I guess that's good. I don't want to be old. I don't want to be "middle aged." I don't want to have all these grown up responsibilities...but sadly, I don't have a choice.

Then tonight when I got out of the shower, I was thinking of another number. My weight. Even more cringe-worthy than my age. I went to the doctor last week, so I know what I weigh. Normally, I don't go anywhere near a scale. I know I'm overweight. I've always been a little heavy. I never considered myself fat, though. After kid #3 was born, I seemed to get down to my pre-baby weight pretty quickly. I thought that was pretty awesome. Of course, once I went back to work, I gained a hundred pounds, give or take. It was probably closer to ten. But whatever. I stress eat. I snack because it's there. People bring in food all the time for various reasons. Like birthdays...except mine (see? I am a little bitter about it). I watch The Biggest Loser and eat a bowl of ice cream and I think "I'll never be that big." But it could happen. So easily. I don't eat right. I don't exercise. I drink too much Diet Coke. I'm so screwed. 

So maybe I should start thinking of numbers in a more realistic way. I'm not getting younger. And I'm not just magically going to lose any weight. I'm also not anywhere near the word count that I should be for NaNoWriMo this year. But that doesn't mean I can't finish the novel...