Finally! After last week’s "not much happening scale-wise", I officially hit the 10-pounds-lost mark on the scale. I’d been close right before the Catholic job fair, but today makes it real. The actual number I’m at isn’t important b/c at this point in my life, it’s higher than I’d like to toss out into Internet-land, but hey, I lost 10 pounds, so happy dances all around (2 Weight Watchers Activity Points).
I’m think I may have to hit up South Beach Phase 1 again before spring really gets here. The thought doesn’t thrill me, but I could use the kickstart to make my 10 percent goal that Weight Watchers has set for me. I have a lot of upcoming events I want to look svelte for including a wedding this spring and swimsuit season. Not that I should want to lounge in the sun, having had The Cancer once, but I’d like to know I’d look damn good if I did…
Speaking of The Cancer, I went back to Athens last week for a day visit. (I’ll make a much less insulting connection in a minute.) There was an education-focused job fair for current UGA students and alumni, so it made sense for me to venture on over. Plus I could squeeze in a visit with one of my favorite people, so the trip seemed like an excellent idea on all fronts.
All in all, the day was a strange success. For those who’ve never lived in the Classic City, Athens can be like Neverland for some people, and it’s easy to stay 22 if you live there long enough. However, being 22 is not every person’s best self. It certainly wasn’t mine. Don’t get me wrong—I was fun and nice (I hope) and I was actually pretty responsible, going to school full time and working two jobs when I was that age. Athens just makes it really easy to live wildly and cheaply.
But back to my awkward cancer story (as if I have other kinds): While waiting to meet my friend at Allgood, I ran into some former drinking buddies, including one guy I always found super-cute. As they hadn’t seen me since 2010 when I moved away, the question came up of what I’d been doing the last 3.5 years. I honestly don’t like making people feel uncomfortable or being a downer in conversation, so I hesitated. The bartender jokingly covered the moment telling me if I’d been in prison, I didn’t have to confirm anything. I laughed, and said it wasn’t that bad, but I had had cancer. Un! Comfortable!
The mood recovered and the rest of the day went well. I even surprised myself by being able to flirt. It’s not like I had a lobotomy/loss-of-flirtation amnesia or anything. I just haven’t had much of a reason to flirt since ending cancer treatment, through my self-imposed hermit lifestyle and lack of confidence. But it was a little fun to realize I still had (minor) game. In fact, said Cute Guy told me I looked like hadn’t changed since the last time he saw me. Since I feel I looked way better four years ago, I’m chalking that one up in the “win” column.
Maybe it all boils down to what my shrink said to me earlier this week: It could just be that I’m more confident. Four years ago, I’d gotten into grad school but I’d really only applied b/c I didn’t know what else to do in Athens. I wasn’t happy there anymore and I wasn’t happy with who I was. Being more active in my life through my job search and weight loss has given me more confidence that’s spilling over to other areas of my life.
Was I thinner when I was 26? Absolutely. Was I more of a party girl? Sure. But a life-changing disease and a subsequent 14 months of therapy have taught me my time and feelings are valuable, so I don’t waste them on situations I’m not interested in. I used to have situational confidence when my hair and make-up looked a certain way or I wore a certain outfit, but these days, I don’t feel like I need those crutches to find my value.