Another day under the belt in the life of a recovering person. It's actually getting easier, and the whole repetitive behavioral addictive bullcrap is getting further away. Weird on one hand, the changes, but very welcome.
I drove my pile of cleared out clothes to a consignment shop today. They told me there was a waiting list until April. Eh? I mean... really?! The woman was so full of herself that all I have to say is I hope they go out of business. Yep! I said it! (But I now understand that my crappy clothes are not very chic in this neck of the woods... so be it... I care not! I'll revert to my plebby self and give them to peeps.)
And I need a new set of scales. Those old ones can't be right. I threw a perfectly good set in the bin once in a fit of pique... and these are looking like a runner up. HOW did I get so FAT?
Och... well... fat aside... I'm in the gym again, dodgy knee and all, and muscle memory is a good thing. ) Tyra Banks plus a few pounds... 'tis moi... (minus the booty).
I'm WIDE awake. Friday night. Normally... well ya all know.... I don't even have to say it do I? But there is a lot to be said for feeling calm. Priceless really.
I'm going to take one of them there rehab sleeping pills and check out in half an hour!
p.s. I didn't mean it about the consignment shop going out of business. I'm already suffering for having said it! May they live long and prosper!
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