Coming home and being surrounded by all of your stuff after a long absence is one of the best feelings ever.
I’ve been reunited with my boy, and I am happy. His dad is cool enough to let me have him tomorrow night too. Yay!
My cat is going back and forth between: I missed you – please touch me right now and Fuck you bitch – I hate you. *sigh* It will be like this for a few days. She likes to punish me.
I was texting my friend Robert about my trip and realized that I have traveled a lot this year: Iceland, Wisconsin Dells, Hawaii, Michigan, and now Punta Cana. The bf and I are discussing a possible weekend trip before the end of the year, but we are running out of weekends.
One of my post-cancer goals was to travel more: check.
Punta Cana was a fucking paradise, but my stomach disagrees. Ugh.
My skin is kind of pissed too: sunburn, dry skin, and mosquito bites. I have some tlc to do tonight.
I haven’t weighed myself in a while, but I’m thinking I’ve gained about 8 pounds this summer. It was worth it, because I’ve had an amazing summer. However, I’m feeling blah about myself and I am committing to eating healthy and moving more starting tomorrow morning. (I’m giving myself the day off because travel fatigue). My friends roll their eyes at me when I mention wanting to get into better shape, but this is how it starts: 8 pounds becomes 10, which becomes 15, and suddenly you have 20+ pounds to lose. Fuck that noise.
My bestie is coming over for dinner tomorrow night, and it has been so long since we’ve hung out that she texted me a fucking agenda. Haha.
I have court tomorrow morning and I’m actually looking forward to it. I’m ready to get back into my routine.
I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again: I’m the luckiest.
