Better day today

Felt better today. Husband stayed home from work and we palled around. He wasn't feeling all that great, so didn't go to the gym with me as we'd planned, but then we came back home and just hung around, watching stupid TV and playing on computers. It's about as much togetherness as we get anymore. That's ok. At least we weren't fighting. We fight so much anymore. Pick, pick, pick, about little things. I guess if we're fighting about the little stuff, we ignore the big stuff, like the fact that our mortgage payment is 40 days late and we're in danger of losing our house. Fuck. I think if we were to lose our house that would be it for me. I'd pack in the marriage too. I just don't think I'd have the strength to go on.

Anyway, I don't want to think about that right now. As Scarlett would say...I'll think about that tomorrow.

So I just saw this story on the news about a father who left his two year old in the car all day while he worked, and the kid died from heat prostration. They had just adopted the kid from Russia, apparently. Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn a thousand times.

I know if you met me the first question you'd ask is WHY AREN'T YOU ADOPTING? Ya right. Our financial situation is so fucking bad that I'm sure no adoption agency in its right mind would give us a child. We make a ton of money between the two of us, but our bills are so high and mortgage payment so huge that it's hard to make ends meet. That seems utterly ridiculous. But it's true. I'm sure that no one would have sympathy for us. Well, fuck you. You don't know how shameful it feels to be broke when people know you make a good coin. I am constantly ashamed of us and our situation. I really can't see bringing a child into our thing right now. I mean he or she would be absolutely loved and cherished. But what could we give the child? I would hate to have to feed him pancakes for dinner when we make so much money. So freaking embarrassing. Shame, shame, shame.

I'm good at feeling shame. I hate my situation. At least I feel a little prouder of myself as a person lately because I've lost so much weight. I don't feel like a boulder on the earth's surface anymore. I feel okay about how I look. Now I'm nowhere near thin...I still need to lose another forty pounds. But I'm not in clothing sizes that begin with 2 anymore. I'm losing slowly now...maybe a pound or two a week. But that's okay. It's more likely to stay off if I lose it slowly. In four months I've lost about 50 pounds, and I had already lost 40 before that. Maybe it will take me till Christmas, but by Christmas I want to be a size 12. So there you go. Almost there. I wonder what keeps me going. There's really no reason to try anymore, except the inner desire to not be a fucking heifer. Maybe it's that food and exercise are things I can control...and when so much else is spiralling out of control, this gives me a sense of balance. Something to be victorious about. Something to mitigate the shame. I want to love me. And I'm trying to. I just wish something or someone would come along to help me have hope. I know what happiness is, and I want to feel some, at least for more than fleeting moments.

Summer storms come every night this year. Tonight's was a doosey. We got about two inches of rain inside an hour. You know that feeling in the air when the storm's coming, but it hasn't arrived yet? That's my inner barometric pressure too. That's exactly how I feel. So does that mean a storm is on its way? I think so. I think so. The pressure's gotta fall soon.