I think I mentioned that I was feeling restless and fluttery -- well, the feeling hasn't gone away and has actually somewhat intensified. It feels as though I am almost, but not quite, to the cusp of the first steep hill of a roller coaster -- there is excitement for what one hopes to be thrilling and fun; there is the foreboding pit in stomach brought on by speed, the unknown path ahead, and the potential danger (how did I get talked into this?); and there is pent up energy knowing that release and liberation from anxiety lay just ahead. It is a strange brew of happiness, trepidation, and gloom all mixed together so that none are separated and at any moment I could break out in laughter or tears. Truly on the verge of hysteria. I have no idea why I am feeling this way. Is something hard about to happen? Scary. Is something amazing about to happen? Exciting. Am I losing my mind? Quite possibly. The last is most credible since I highly doubt I am so in harmony with the universe that my stomach is foreseeing the future. A week ago I guessed that it could just be Spring and I have since become even more convinced that that must be exactly what it is. It is so amazingly gorgeous around here! I wish the blossoms weren't so fleeting and the heat last week hadn't burnt the daffodils before their time. After my walk a few days ago I decided to read on the patio and came upon this description in A Separate Peace:
"...there was a breath of widening life in the morning air -- something hard to describe -- an oxygen intoxicant, a shining northern paganism, some odor, some feeling so hopelessly promising that I would fall back in my bed on guard against it. It was hard to remember in the heady and sensual clarity of these mornings; I forgot whom I hated and who hated me. I wanted to break out crying from stabs of hopeless joy, or intolerable promise, or because these mornings were too full of beauty for me, because I knew of too much hate to be contained in a world like this."
Big sigh. Yes. I hadn't been able to put my finger on it, and certainly hadn't been able to put it into words so beautifully, but it must be that oxygen intoxicant -- that rapturous blend of apricot blossoms, longer days, lilacs, warm breezes, and untapped potential. I have self-diagnosed spring fever. Now what to do?
One way in which I am channelling the pent-up energy is by trying to lose weight. I know, the "D" word. I am so tired of worrying about it, but I not only hadn't lost baby weight before our adventure, I also weaned the two year old not so baby and probably ate a few more baguettes than what was expected or required and thus came back with a few extra pounds. So I am determined to live a new life, be a new me. I am doing yoga and walking for an hour almost every day, not eating sugar (any!) or flour, and resisting the urge to buy a bigger size as much as I would like to fit into the clothes that I wear. I even went away for the weekend and was such a good dieter -- going so far as to abstain from the chocolate molten ice cream brownie thing -- dedication at its height! I highly expected to see great results on the scale this morning only to discover that much to my dismay and chagrin I had regained two pounds! My body doesn't seem to realize that I am on a tight schedule here and even two pounds lost a week isn't going to be fast enough. Definitely a setback, but forging ahead and vowing to not eat cake tonight even though it is my bug's birthday -- he is 14 -- we sure do love him!
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