Plateau

I am almost afraid to say it...but I think I'm off it! I saw 202 the other day, which is the lowest weight I've seen yet. I'm waiting, with bated breath, to see a number that starts with 1.

I've been trying to remember when I last saw a number that started with 1. I thought my age also started with 1 the last time I saw a number on the scale that started with 1, but I was wrong. I remember weighing 186 when I was 23 and was maid of honor in my friend's wedding. I remember this (for some stupid reason) because we were the same weight at the time. 23 years old--that's almost TWENTY years ago.

I read somewhere that people who lose a lot of weight tend to experience some of the same emotional stuff they experienced when they were that weight previously. It makes me wonder. I have been in such a funk. Unemployment doesn't help. I've sent out at least fifty resumes. In response, I've had one rejection letter. Yesterday I got excited because I got a callback, but it was just a screening call--they'll call me back if they want an interview. And this is for a temporary receptionist job. Sigh. The holidays were a total loss because I had an epic migraine and was sick for a week and then Mr. Salted was sick and he's still trying to shake whatever it was, and I'm just getting over another migraine.

My first winter quarter class starts tonight--last week's was pushed back a week due to snow. Hopefully being back in class will make me feel less like a waste of space.

I am losing weight again!

I saw 205.0 today on the scale--in the middle of the day, even. I may just see the 100s yet; I had just about given up, and the half-price Easter candy has been taunting me. It was especially gratifying because I weighed myself after a two-mile walk I had to force myself to go on in the cold wind. I've found a nearby park with a paved trail--it has distance markers and is mostly level, so I'm sold. There were, of course, lots of healthy hotshot types out there--woo and also hoo--but I try not to actively (ha) hate them because they're "beautiful"--it isn't any better than them hating me because I'm "not". I was quite annoyed, however, by some old guy (he resembled Moses, beard and all) that rode his bike past me slowly, physically brushing me when he had plenty of room to go around. He then doubled back, rode by and said something to me when I was on my way back to my car, which I couldn't make out--the music was up loud, and I flat refused eye contact. (I wear sunglasses whenever possible, but it was raining on and off today.) I freely acknowledge that I am easily irritated, especially when exercising (I'm sure that completely shocks anyone who has been paying attention) and/or having my dance space invaded (ditto). I also managed to organize my clothes and accessories, find a sports bra that fit at Target (it cost about 25% of what I've usually had to pay--go figure!), get laundry done, apply for a job, and talk to the unemployment people on the phone. They don't know if I'm going to qualify yet. I go to that informational evening class about the technical writing certificate next week, which also marks my third anniversary with Mr. Salted. I love losing weight!!!!

Let the angels sing.

I am off my plateau. Only by half a pound, but I am OFF IT!!!!!

I had a really good job interview yesterday, and I am SO done taking crap at the job I am winding up now. I popped off to a high mucky-muck who was being an over-the-top assclown yesterday and it felt good. Damn good. The person I popped off to is (a) not my boss and (b) will have nothing to do with giving me any kind of reference, and he was just being rude (as he always is), but 99.9% of the people who work there just keep their mouths shut when he does it because they fear for their livelihoods. It wasn't a personal attack of any stripe, I simply made an observation that happened to be true about our work area after he found fault with its cluttered appearance (and not for the first time in my presence). Since I have no livelihood after a week from tomorrow, I am at quarter of give-a-shit--and I giggled all day. (Why can't they put that feeling in a pill?)

Stick a fork in me, you know? The organization I am leaving reminds me of an abusive boyfriend. Employees stay for years and years because they get so beaten down, thinking they can't do any better and maybe someday things will change (in part because they are always hearing things will change, but the crises never end). Managers don't stay, and every few years the worker bees get to break in a new regime and the cycle starts all over again, a la Sisyphus.

Life is too short.