I promised my mother that I’d never blog about anything below the waist, but I have to break that promise today. (Yeah, I know, Mom; how many HOURS ago did I say that?)
You wouldn’t think I’d be in a rotten mood after the really nice weekend I had. It was Mother’s Day and I took the boys up to my Mom’s for the weekend. Other than getting “the lecture” from my dad (about why we haven’t bought a house yet), it went really well. He didn’t beef about my being on the South Beach diet causing any inconvenience (or being ridiculous), and I spent 36 minutes on the treadmill twice, not to mention, I didn’t snack at all. Mom and I enjoyed our new tradition, the “all night gabfest”; we sit around talking for hours on end ’til one or both of us can’t keep our eyes open anymore. On Sunday I went to see my sister and got a baby fix from holding River for nearly an hour. (Got some great pics! Go to Flickr.com and search under CFaker17). I came home to find a dozen roses from John and a yellow lily from our neighbor. Dinner was almost waiting for me, except I had to fix the Foreman grill first. John also picked up some colossal shrimp and a bottle of my favorite wine. (Which I needed after driving 60 miles on the Garden State Parkway. If I can drive the Parkway on a Sunday and live, NASCAR is for sissies.)
I have today off from work; I figured between all the driving I did yesterday and the company memo asking that all Finance Dept. employees consider taking some vacation time to relax and unwind, as well as remove some liability from the books (tell me that’s not a bad omen of things to come before Q2 is over), I figured what the heck; I’ll take today. But I woke up feeling blue and out of sorts. I had some things to do in the morning but for the afternoon I decided to go to the mall and run a final errand for the contest, and while I waited for that to be done, I browsed in Lane Bryant. They had the cutest pair of red lace undies, and I happen to have a character in mind who’s chosen to adjust her lifestyle a few hundred degrees. One of the things she does is replace her plain old WalMart tighty-whities with lace underwear. Well, heck, standing there in Lane Bryant, I just happen to have a pair in my hand. So I bought them.
They weren’t cheap, I’ll admit that, but they’re fun, and even the idea of owning such a thing made me smile all the rest of the day. Most of the morning I tried to think of a way to make myself feel better, to give my ego a kick in the seat. I’ve come to the conclusion that whenever I’m feeling down, I’m going to treat myself to a pair of lace undies. It’s better than treating myself to something sweet; that will only make me feel guilty afterward. It’s not expensive, and it’s practical too. Plus, as I lose weight, I’ll be able to watch the progression as my lace panties get smaller and smaller…