You Spin Me Right Round, Baby

Oh, sweet, sweet freedom! It has been such a joy to get back to my second grade schedule! My kids are awesome, and I am a happy, happy camper.

Yay for me!

I am so yay for me and so happy to get out of my ninth circle of hell, that I am actually going back to the gym. After weighing myself on Monday and realizing that my weight had crept up to an unacceptable high (hello? I have never been that heavy in my life, mmmkay?), I decided that it was time. Or should I say, my fat ass decided that it was time.

Anyhoodle, I made it to the gym on Monday and again yesterday, and I'm hoping (fingers crossed) to make it on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

I know, I know. Super lofty goals considering my ass hasn't been to the gym in four months. FOUR MONTHS. In fact, I went to a beginner's spinning class yesterday, arrived 15 minutes late, and thought I was going to. Fucking. Die. I am sooooo out of shape. When I think of how I used to go spinning (in the kick your ass class) five times a week, I totally have no idea how I did it.

So. To reiterate, get ready to see my rapidly shrinking lady lumps!

xoxo

P.S. The only thing I'll miss are my boobies. They're the last to arrive and the first to leave. And for me, they've been frickin ginormous.

Top Five Ways I Torture Myself

1. Keeping treats in the house. Rewind to Sunday when I ate half a jar of frosting (in addition to the three donuts that I had already eaten) that I had originally bought to frost a cake I was going to bake with my class the following day, and later to Monday, when I ate almost the other half and had to put dishwashing liquid in the container to avoid eating anymore. I just can't keep treats in the house. I have no self-control. None. Zero. Zip. Zilch.


2. Stepping on the scale. As a result of the vicious cycle of anxiety, self-loathing, overeating, and inertia that I have experienced in the last three months, I have added six pounds to my already (for me) fatty mcbutterpants weight. On Monday I weighed myself (something that I used to do religiously on a daily basis and have rarely done over the last three months), and I almost. Passed. Out. 141 pounds. I have never weighed so much. Never. Three months of cookies, ice cream, loaded fries, pizza, and bags of M&M's have wreaked havoc on my body. I know that I am not fat. But weight is a very personal thing. And the fact that I am bulging out of my pants is a big flashing sign. Earth to Smart Cookie: It's time for the bingeing to stop and the exercise to start.


3. Going "window" shopping. I always come home with something. And even though my night job has kept us in the black, and we have not added to our debt, I have more than enough clothes. I mean, just yesterday, I was telling J that I really needed to clean the bathroom, and he said, "Yeah, half your wardrobe is piled in there." And I actually thought about it and said, "Half my wardrobe? Not even close! Do you know how many clothes I have?" Um, obviously too many. Ugh, but I can't help it! I love pretty things! I'm currently obssessed with some booties I saw at Nordstrom and a leather strap Michael Kors watch and these yellow Gap cordoroys! Help me! Save me from myself!


4. Searching for people from my past on FACEBOOK. It's just bad news bears. Seriously.


5. Wondering why everyone and their mother has a baby (see ways I torture myself #4). Last week I dreamt that my mother was pregnant, and she didn't know how to tell me because she thought I would be upset. Actually, I'd be happy if someone in my family got pregnant. I could deal with being pregnant by proxy.

Deep sigh. Deep, deep sigh.

Take, These Broken Wings

Today was officially my last day as the fifth grade homeroom teacher/2nd-5th grades reading/language teacher. Beginning on Monday, I'm going back to my second grade, self-contained classroom.

And it is bittersweet.

Because the outpouring of love from my fourth and fifth graders (two of whom bought me M&M's because they know those are my favorite treats) and one distraught parental call lamenting the fact that her son was only able to spend one quarter with me have made me feel as happy as a bird with a french fry.

Because the truth is, it's so much easier to listen to the haters, who are always more vocal than the lovers. And doing so is so dangerous. Because eventually, you start to believe what they're saying about you, eventually you begin to lose confidence and doubt yourself.

But if today was any indication, Mrs. LeDouchetard can suck it. Because bitch is definitely in the minority.

Hate On Me, Hater

I know, I know, I have been M.I.A. for the last two months -but, oh how I've missed you! Unfortunately, my internet hasn't been working, and lazy ass that I am, I haven't called AT&T to get it fixed. Oh, yeah, and my day job has been sucking the will to live right out of me. So there's that, too.



Anyhoodle, here's a mini-recap. I'm posting at my night job, so hopefully, more to follow. :)

• School has been kicking my ass, and I have been riding the crazy train all the way to Just Quit My Fucking Job town. Mrs. LeDouchetard and her cronies have made my life miserable, and my mantra, which started with, "I just have to make it through the year," and later changed to, "I just have to make it through the month," and eventually turned into, "I just have to make it through the day," almost became, "Oh, Lord. Please help me not stick my head in the oven a la Sylvia Plath." We're talking crying almost every day, cursing like a pirate, and just generally hoping to end my misery.
• Because some parents are assholes. Period. And apparently, it was a witch hunt, and guess who was riding the broom?
• And those parents just hate my guts, which is odd because I am really a loveable person. Like, especially loveable.
• So finally, like the Israelites who traveled for 40 years and finally made it to Canaan, I was called to my principal's office and told that they had decided to move me back to second grade. Essentially, being demoted, but who gives a fuck? Because it means an end to the LeDouchetard saga.
• Yay for me!
• Joe, one of the only rays of sunshine in this craptastic extravaganza, and I recently celebrated our nine year anniversary. We ususally don't exchange gifts, but in addition to getting me DVR (which has totally changed my life!), he bought me a snuggie, a STAR magazine, and a pound of M&M's (which I ate in a 24 hour time period).
• Which brings me to my expanding girth, and the fact that I have been eating my feelings for the last few months. Deep sigh.
• But now that I am going to be a happy camper and not have to suffer the emotional torture of my day job, perhaps I will find the strength and energy to work out.
• Maybe.

That's really it in a nutshell. I wish I had more exciting stuff to share, but it's the dawn of a new day. So keep your fingers crossed.

xoxo