The other shoe

It’s that feeling that things are going so well and it can’t last. It’s not possible.

  • You’ve lost the weight and kept it off even though you had pizza for dinner last night (and the night before but nobody’s keeping track)
  • You’re training hard and lifting heavier.
  • You’re fitting into your ‘skinny’ jeans.
  • You’re dating someone fantabulous.

It can’t last. Something HAS to go wrong. I mean, that’s what happens, right? Because that’s the nature of the world. It’s almost a given that, as soon as the world seems to be spinning beautifully, a meteor will come out of nowhere and suddenly, we’re all The Day After Tomorrow and all that jazz. Suddenly, the other shoe drops.

  • You step on the scale and you’re up 10 lbs from yesterday and it’s all pizza.
  • You get to the gym and struggle to lift the pretty pink 5lb weights while people laugh and point.
  • Your skinny jeans get up and walk out of the room when they see your new pizza enhanced thighs.
  • Your new guy/girl stops calling and it all falls apart.

Yep, I’m waiting for that other shoe to drop. Cos at the moment, things are too freaking good. Yeah, I know. By writing about it, I am, in fact, inviting the shoe to drop. Please shoe, please drop.

Because all this waiting is driving me bonkers. I’m imagining slights and issues. I’m doubting myself and everything around me.

And then the phone rings and it’s the guy. And all is right in the world again.

I’m pathetic really.

And no, this blog didn’t really have a point other than to illustrate how screwed up this new relationship is making me because damn it, I LIKE this guy. I’m actually getting the flutterbies and all that jazz. I’m smiling on the phone. I’m (semi) facebook stalking him (he added me first so it’s allowed). And I’m making myself sick.

Oh yeah, and I added another 10lbs to my leg press last week and did push ups with 10lbs on my back. I rock.

Happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans who won’t be reading this but will instead be gorging on turkey. πŸ™‚


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