(no subject)
Mom is here.
So, of course, we did our part to support the Seattle economy today.
Until our feet hurt.
For the very first time in my life, I got a real bra fitting at Nordstrom's. Like the kind where the woman comes into the dressing room with you. So basically I flashed a complete stranger. I'm up a size. Again. *grumble* What the fuck am I supposed to do with the bra collection?
So I went from ~60 bras or so to . . . 4. But at least they fit.
The day started a bit teary. My weight's been frustrating me quite a bit lately. I've been trying to ignore it (how much it bothers me), but it got the better of me this morning as I was 'trying' to get dressed. A bit of an effort when your clothes were made for someone 10 pounds lighter. Even if I was feeling motivated, the doctor said I should wait until at least October to do any real serious physical activity. Although I'm probably using that as a convenient excuse.
That is one of the oh-so-many reasons it's time for a therapy appointment. I'm too old to be fixated on food. Not to mention I don't have the excess mental space. I barely have the brain power to do meaningless tasks for work these days.
I feel a bit bad, because I got preachy to my mom this afternoon. I love her dearly. However, she's potentially even worse than I am when it comes to thinking about weight. At 53, she's 5'6" and weighs 135 pounds. I can only hope I look like her in 27 years. For the past week I've gotten emails about how we're not eating while she's here because she's fat, old, and ugly. Since the year started she's given every diet plan I know a try. She's already joined Jenny Craig. (I wish I was kidding. I really do.) If I were to list what the woman eats on a normal weekday, you would suddenly become starving. I couldn't survive on it. Hell, 4 hours after a big lunch I had to have an emergency frappaccino from Starbucks because my blood sugar plummeted. (Yeah, I know. Not exactly diet food.)
Anyways. So, when she said something while we were walking, I finally asked her how I was supposed to take her insisting that I look thin/skinny/fine/whatever seriously when she's twice my age, 4 inches taller than me, less than 10 pounds heavier than me, and convinced she's a fat ass. I said it in a lighter tone, almost as if it were a joke. I didn't want to come on like I was attacking her. She asked if I was blaming her and I said of course not. My issues with food and eating are my own. However, it's difficult to cope with tossing almost 10 pairs of pants yesterday that I've grown out of when my skinny mom say she looks chubby today.
/end ramble. For now.
I know that when I start exercising (I almost said 'if' and then stopped) I'll feel better. Even with little change in the beginning. With the quarter starting next week, since I have to TA, I'll do quite a bit of walking for at least four days a week. I'll be out of my apartment much, much more. All of these are positive things.