Sunday, August 31, 2014

a whiny waste of time.

I weigh-in on the 14th of every month, but this past time I wasn't feeling an update.  I wasn't feeling much of anything in the way of proud or accomplished.  I feel bored with this working out shit.  I feel annoyed and so freaking over it.  Then today, after thinking about things that rifle around in my brain, (ie: what do I want to do with my life, will I ever be content with anything, man I really need to get up and do something... etc) I decided I needed to write and here I am.  So, what better thing to share than that progress I was talking about?

I lost another four pounds, bringing my total weight-loss up to 36 pounds and my weight down to 176, which is the lightest I've weighed since like freshman year of high school, no joke... over 10 years people!  Of course at first, like with every weigh-in, I was all gung-ho and ready to roll, telling myself if I lost 6 pounds a month for the next four months, I'd meet my weight goal by the time frame I set out for myself, which is December, meaning it would've taken me a year to drop 60 pounds and I could FINALLY increase my food intake each day and decrease the amount of time I waste working out because I'll be maintaining instead of losing.  Ready to be done sooner rather than later with the annoying EVERYDAY grind I'd established, I hit the gym, running, biking, walking with Lucy, whatever - six days a week, like I had been for the past few months, and I was happy with it... well not with the working out but with my dedication and perseverance.  Then the dreaded period hit, and I got drunk one weekend, and it rained on one of my run days, and on and on... so I find myself with two weeks til next weigh-in and I'm in that bargaining stage.  Where I say, "Oh you don't need to workout every single day this week, how about every other day... just for this week, really."  When I do workout, and get those extra calories to consume, I still eat too much, telling myself that this homemade latte doesn't really count cause it's a liquid, and there's good stuff in there, so really I'm doing myself a favor by drinking it.  And then on my days "off," with no workout under my belt at all, I really overeat, because let's be honest, who can freaking survive on only 1200 calories a day, especially if you're like me and you lead a pretty sedentary lifestyle surrounded by easily accessible food all day and night?  UGH.  I LOVE not having to work outside the home.  I LOVE my freedom and alone time.  I LOVE not having to answer to anyone or anything but myself.  BUT sometimes, living the way I do does not lend to a healthy or outwardly productive way of life.  I am NOT complaining about the way I live, I'm just saying sometimes it takes more effort than I have to keep sticking to my routine.  Because I have nowhere in particular to go or an office that requires my attendance or a husband who's a stickler for a fully-balanced meal every evening or a meticulously, daily-cleaned kitchen (THANK GOD!!!) sometimes it's very easy to squirrel away in my bedroom watching shitty TV or reading amazing books or listening to bumpin' music and let the hours slip away unaccounted for.

That being said... telling myself to get up and just spend an hour on myself, on my health, on my body, on my mind... well sometimes it only ends up as a thought that goes forgotten.  Like right now I'm sitting here on this comfy bed in this almost light-tight bedroom at 630 at night, and I've done nothing worth a damn.  It's entirely my own doing, entirely my own fault, and the only thing I can do at this point is put this damned computer away. suck it the fuck up, and go burn some calories.  I know I need to do it, I know I should do it, but it's just so NOT what I'd like to be doing.  I'd rather stretch out and watch some more One Tree Hill while working my fingers to the bone knitting a sweater.  Or I'd like to push play on my mp3 player and listen to Stephen Fry reading me Harry Potter while I paint my nails.  Or I'd like to scrounge up the motivation to go clean out/organize the office so I can actually USE it over the next 8 months we'll have it.  But alas, here I sit, not moving, not listening to the small motivational me I've pushed down inside my brain.

And those of you who read this when I do get around to posting something are probably thinking, "OH MY GOD stop complaining!"  And you're right.  As I've already acknowledged, my husband has given me an amazing life, I have given myself an amazing life, and honestly the only thing I'd change is him having more days off for us to go do cool travely things... and perhaps being a little closer to my family would be nice too.  But - whatever - these are pretty much first-world problems I'm complaining about, and complain I do well.  It's a gift really.  I just know I can't be the only person out there who thinks and feels these same ways.  So if you're out there, reading this, and knowing exactly how I feel, you aren't alone.

now i'm gonna go and do this shit. because as i've said a thousand times, i'm gonna do it even though i hate it.

until next time...

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

the buildup...

     She surprised him at the door when he got home from work, dressed in nothing but a tank and her panties.  His eyebrows rose in a happy appreciation and he welcomed her open arms and hungry kiss.  After a few seconds, he matched her intensity and soon he was controlling the tempo, pushing hard against her mouth, sucking lightly on her bottom lip.  She smiled against his greedy kisses and lingeringly pulled away, eventually turning to lead him to their awaiting bed.
     She smiled to herself as he grabbed at her, not wanting any space between them now that he was aroused and filled with anticipation.  She stopped, turning to face him, and dragged his shirt over his head.  Dropping it to the floor, she rested her open palms on his pecs, letting her hands trail down his chest and ending at the top of his pants.  She leaned up on her tippy toes, finding his waiting mouth, already parted to accommodate more passionate kisses.  He grabbed the sides of her face and she melted into him, using her expert fingers to unbutton his trousers and let them fall to the floor.  She took over their embraced lips, parting from his mouth to stream little pecks across his jaw, over his hammering heart, down his fuzzy happy trail.  She bent all the way to the floor and quickly untied his shoes, coaxing his feet out and freeing him from almost all of his clothes.
     When she straightened up, she pulled her own shirt off, both of them equally matched in their near-nakedness.  He looked at her adoringly, whispered a breathy, "God, I love you," before quickly closing the distance between them and entangling themselves together once again.
     While they kissed, their lips swelling with each passing moment, he placed his hand at the small of her back and gently guided her to the bed.  He laid her down, momentarily breaking their connection, then crawled to her.  Suspended over her, allowing himself to take in her full beauty lying beneath him, he lightly traced the curves of her body.  Her eyes rolled back, relishing in his delicate touch, and when his mouth found hers again, she felt herself breaking open, letting him inside her thoughts and emotions.  She allowed him to overcome her completely, letting her own hands roam his body, feeling every ripple of his muscles, the light sheen of sweat already covering his flesh.
     His scent overwhelmed her, and when he parted from her mouth to press soft kisses against her chin, down her neck, and beyond, she could feel that scent burrowing into her mind, knowing she'd never forget it.  Ragged breaths left her as he traveled her body, both with his mouth and his hands.  She shut her eyes tight, grasping the blanket beneath her in ecstasy and let everything else about him take her over, too.

Until next time...