Wednesday, January 28, 2015

My life, as told by T. Swift



Monday was one of those days. Nothing went right. I mean, nothing. And it was kind of my fault.

I have this theory about bad days. A lot of times they start as soon as we wake up. We stub our toe getting out of bed. Our dog jumps on our head while we’re sound asleep (just me?). Our alarms don’t go off. We rip a hole in our tights. It happens. But it’s how we choose to face the rest of the day that make a difference. I think we have the ability to turn them around.

And Monday, I didn’t choose to do that. I just wallowed in my grumpalupagus state. The thing that set me off was not my dog, or my tights, or my alarm or stubbing my toe.

It was the scale.

It’s just not moving. I have counted my points. Watched my carbs. And worked my butt off at the gym. I know my body. It’s just not reacting like it normally does—and I’m frustrated. I know, it’s not all about the scale. I’m trying to focus on other successes, but I’m having a little trouble seeing them.

The day started with the scale. Then I realized, as I was driving to work, that my dress was on backward. Little things like that continued to plague me all day. I was grateful to head to my local Y for my favorite Monday class after work.

Except I couldn’t find a parking space. Not one single parking space in the entire gym parking lot. And people by the dozen were driving around waiting for spaces. I finally gave up. I ended up going to another Y for a later class (but almost left when I realized class was a half hour later than I thought).

But Zumba made it a little better. A little. Because I got some insight from a guitar-playing, golden-haired angel named Taylor.

I’m not going to lie. I have developed a new love for sweet little Taylor Swift. So when I walked into class, I thought, this has been the crappiest day. I hope we do the routine to “Shake it Off.”

And we did.

As I shook it off—or at least tried to—I realized that Taylor was singing to me. Ah, the magic of T. Swift. She sings our happiness and our pain. Right? Or something.

But hear me out. You all know the song. Even if you hate it. Even if you try to hate it, but can’t. It gets stuck in your head like a happy little earworm.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

Shake it off, I shake it off

Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break

And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

Shake it off, I shake it off


OMG, you guys! Taylor just, like, totally gave me an epiphany. *I* am the player. *I* am the hater.  *I* am the faker. *I* am the heartbreaker. Coo coo ca choo.

But seriously. I am destroying myself with hating and breaking my heart with my own choices. Because when the scale was mean to me, you know what I did? I sabotaged. Ate a bunch of crap. Who does that hurt? Me.

So. I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake. Shake it off.

Because, seriously self, why you gotta be so mean?

Thanks, Tay-Tay.

P.S. Old weight? We are never ever ever getting back together.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love this blog! I know just how you feel as I'm going through the same thing right now.

Shake it off!

Terri L'Hoste said...

This was AWESOME!!!
Please don't ever stop blogging! I needed you as I sat here and ate a Snickers bar feeling sorry for myself. I'm gonna "shake it off".

Nicole said...

Best Blog post EVER! Always love your posts but this one put a great big grin on my face! You got this girlie!! :)

Jewel Maven said...

I also did not have a stellar Monday (as in yesterday AND the Monday you mentioned in this blog). And mine was also blamed on my scales. I mean...I was excited on Friday because I was actually down a couple of pounds and was looking forward to the Monday weigh-in. Monday was not nice to me.

I must take responsibility for some of this. I am TRYING to get/keep motivated and I'm having a terrible time of it! I am totally blowing it all on the weekends. I do really well during the week (most of the time), but come Friday night, I totally forget everything I'm working for and spend the next two days in diet denial. I keep telling myself this one little 'cheat' won't hurt. And then I cheat all weekend! Then I wake up to self-loathing on Monday morning. It's my normal cycle. Diet then cheat then self-loathing because I have no self control. grrrrr!

I dislike Taylor Swift, too. Maybe I'm just hopeless.

Erika said...

Jewel, you are NOT hopeless. Mondays are a tough, tough weigh-in day. I whine a lot about our Tuesdays, but Monday is even worse. I need a Friday, I think. ;) But the weekends are always hard. Maybe to make it work, give yourself a little break on Saturday, but then be hardcore on Sunday. And try to incorporate some activity. I'm all about working out on the weekdays...the weekends, not so much. I try to at least take my dog for a walk, but that doesn't always happen.

Be kind to yourself. This is a HARD journey. Taylor wouldn't want you to beat yourself up. ;)

Terri, sometimes you just NEED a Snickers. I get it girl! :)