This morning, I did a happy dance.
Sure, I was glad that I did my obligatory 2o minutes on my trusty Air Climber, plus did some arm work and crunches.
Sure, I was glad to see that I lost a pound over the weekend, as we know weekends have been the downfall to my Good-Girl-During-The-Week dieting. But this past weekend, I stayed mindful of what I ate and was happy to see that pay off on the scale.
But no, my happy dance came at a time when things have been pretty miserable for me the past few months, that horrid part of the morning called Time To Find Something To Wear To Work.
Usually, it’s a part of the day I just feel really, really bad about myself because I’m surrounded by all these clothes hanging in my closet that I can’t wear, but today, I thought I’d just give my formerly favorite black pants a try. Just to see how long before I’m back in them.
Well, I’m back in them. Maybe six or eight months too late, but I’m back!
In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I wore them, but they sure did feel good.
If that’s not stick-with-it inspiration, I don’t know what is.