Tuesday, January 15, 2013

A Body at Rest . . . Stays Fat and Sluggish, Apparently

This is getting ridiculous. I feel perfectly well (no headache, a light dry cough the only remnant of my weekend cold), and yet I am completely exhausted. The idea of sweating through a bangin' zumba class tonight makes me weep, a little.

But to paraphrase the immortal words of two Jennifers, Holliday and Hudson, I am telling you I'm not not going. I will go to the freaking class and I will zumba, even if I have to take 25 breaks and the Italian Spitfire yells at me (she yells at me every week, no big) and I limp my way through all 20 songs. The only way to break through my torpor and fatigue is to break through and break a sweat! This I know for sure.

Right after Mimosa and I get home from her dentist appointment, I'm squeezing into my tightest zumba clothes, three hours early. I am taking no chances!

The only good news is that my weight is way down, which a weekend of couch-sitting, hot broth, and weak tea will do for you. But I'm considering it a Xanadu weight and not taking it seriously.

In other news . . . welcome to two new readers, the Southern-Fried Lawyer and my Reading Soul Sister! I thought I remembered that the SFL had lost a lot of weight in the last year, so I asked if she had any tips; she replied, "I DID lose a lot of weight, but only with the gastric bypass surgery, so I don't think my pep talks (eat only liquids for four-six weeks!  Have massive surgery!  Then have a bowel obstruction!) would be very useful." Au contraire, sister-girl! I find your words useful, instructive, and entertaining. (Trifecta!)

Tomorrow my day begins with a coffee date with Kind Tina, always a treat, and since I'll be right next to the library, I may spend a cheerful 40 minutes tidying "my" section. (My section includes adolescent angst, early feminism, and geriatric sex; I haven't made it through the whole things yet so I'm not sure what other wonders await, but so far it's been pretty entertaining.) Tomorrow is also significant because it's the last day I should take in alcohol or ibuprofen before my Major Surgery. (So far, I've managed to stay in "I'll think about this tomorrow" mode, to which my dear friend Michele, Oasis of Calm, responded, "I hear you, Scarlett. Boy, do I hear you" — but as the dreaded day grows nearer, this approach may be less successful.) I haven't really felt like drinking these past few days, but part of me thinks I should have one for my baby and one more for the road, y'know? Four weeks without hooch (and Motrin!), starting Thursday. Yowza.

(Mrs. Cynicletary recommended that I get a prescription for medical marijuana — and, since she knows that I'm not overfond of the illicit herb, she had several creative suggestions for what I might do with the surplus. I'll just leave it at that.)

Hey, I just produced quite a few words, given my weariness! I hope this bodes well for tonight.

(Of course, I'd really like a nap right now. Blogging . . . so worky.)

Yawn, yawn,

Lady C-leepy


  1. Have you considered that maybe you have mono? I certainly hope not, but it would explain the exhaustion. Then again, so would being a mom. I hope that you feel better soon and that the prep for the surgery is not too taxing and involves lots of wine. Take care, Lady C!

    1. Try to imagine the zeal with which I raced to WebMD to read about symptoms of mono!!!! Alas... it seems unlikely. But I will be on close lookout for jaundice, believe me. Your second diagnosis is probably he more likely one.

      (Husband is excited by the phrase "Zumba through the torpor!" Think I'm on to a potentially hot marketing slogan? I value your writerly opinion.) :)

    2. I love the use of the word "torpor" in any capacity and encourage you strongly to go into t-shirt making.

  2. Prom Information! There were two freshman year, both at Cowell if I recall correctly (waltzes would NOT have been a College V thing).

    First, February 14, we went in a big group together: you, me, Derek, Danny, Kurt, Tina C, Adina and Parry, Scott and his sister Kit (the sweet --- gay? --- guy who always said, "Aren't you happy? Aren't you proud?"???). I wore my black dress (I have a photo of me with Danny and Kurt) and danced with Danny, Kurt and Derek.

    Second, on May 16, I went alone with Danny but you were there with Guy and Tina W. I wore Mellow's long, black formal and her pearls of which I have no personal recollection though my diary tells me people told me I looked good.

    I do not have separate memories of these dances; they blur together into one big, vague memory (I remember the DANCING which was DIVINE!). It cracks me up that you have no memories of me at these events. I was always Dazzling.

    My diary had only the barest bones because I was too busy writing about a visit from Carl and another sad entry of "WHY doesn't he like me?" whining. I wanna go back and slap some sense into 19-year-old me.


    1. I remember almost nothing of either event, except yes, they were Cowell Waltzes. (Prom was College Five.) The demon rum stole all my college memories! How wise you were to choose temperance!! (Aren't you glad, aren't you happy, aren't you proud? I remember Scott showing me how he made lasagna - did he live at Kresge? with a kitchen? must have, otherwise where were we in this story? - and he put big slices of hard-boiled egg in it, something I thought would be very strange but was unnoticeable in the finished dish.)

      Don't you wish we'd taken more pictures??? I have almost nothing from freshman year!!