Notes of a Friday

Not sure it's possible to be less motivated at work...starting to see how my paycheck looks with less OT...

We have 17 months to get our sh*t together; they were running a promotion at my apartment complex...no rent increase if we renew by March 31, for up to 15 months. No rent increase?! We took all 15. Nasty as our place is, it's a roof over our heads. I'm starting a spring cleaning kick this weekend...Meara's place really motivated me.

Life on hormones may be brutal, but life off hormones means my PCOS comes back with a vengance. It's a vicious circle with PCOS, you crave more stuff that's bad for you, which maintains your weight and exacerbates the symptoms, like the ole ovaries taking a month off. I'm scared my biological clock is winding down, thanks to my fat ass. Going to do some real thinking about that this weekend.

My ideal job would allow me to wear jeans and sneakers whenever I wanted. There was an actual spring in my step this morning, because of my jeans and sneaks...so comfy! (I save my jeans for Fridays). Jeans are just tight enough to make me grumpy though, Kelly Clarkson concert T is just fitted enough to make me self-conscious, and I'm back in a cubicle with low walls. The ole spring in my step wore off fast, and I can tell this weekend's going to consist of some dreaming and planning.

1. Start cleaning
2. Reapply for Les's SS
3. Buy bike
4. List what you want to plant, inventory supplies, buy soil and seeds
5. Budget—Our days of being flush are going to slip away fast if we're not careful. Time to get a real monthly budget going.
6. Weekly food plan—That'll tie in with my thinking about my health and ways I can change it. I'm literally eating away our ability to start a family, and at my age ... man, it just makes me cringe, when I think of where the time's gone.

I'm 39½. At 41, Dad had his first aortic dissection. At 43, Mom had fibroids and lost her women parts. If you put any stock in the theory of heredity, then it stands to reason that I'm significantly shortening my lifespan at my current weight/health status, to say nothing of possibly missing out on bringing a small version of Les and I into the world. Yes, I'm obsessing, yes, I'm a worrier, but when the f*ck is it going to prod me into action? Missing my egg this month was a real eyeopener, and I'm through eating myself into an early, possibly childless grave. I bought and have started reading Yoga for Arthritis, and I'll bike every damn day until my knees can handle adding walking to my regimen.