I guess I could blame it on the heat...it has been hot. Over 90 for ten or eleven days in a row. But all weekend I was Miss Fussy Pants and Ms. Grumpy Britches! Actually it was an epic funk!
I am pretty sure that it all started Friday, when I weighed myself at the gym. That was a mistake. Then I went to the mall to find the perfect black dress for the upcoming reunion. And then I got my hair cut. My head knows that it was the disappointment of my own *expectations*. But my disposition doesn’t care.
As my mother always used to say: cooler heads prevail. So I'm happy to say that I'm (almost) over it now.
The number on the scale is just that: a number. It is not who I am and does not tell my worth.
The dress (yes, I bought one) is cute. I'm sure I'll look just fine. Maybe even better than most.
Me and my hair have had a love/hate relationship as long as I can remember. The feud continues. Maybe someday I'll find a cut I love. Not likely.
Maybe some good sweating and working on creative projects will clear the funkified fog...
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