Fresh Air

My windows are open and my house is filling with fresh air. I have a pot of coffee brewing. I can hear the water dripping delicious drip by delicious drip. I have my iTunes blasting and it is just me here, sitting in the middle of a mess. The upstairs is clean, girls drawers have been cleared out, purged, washed and re-stocked with clothes for warmer weather. My bedroom is next. My closet it after that. But, I am saving that for another day. I am saving that for the moment I can look at the clothes hanging in there and say (to most of them) I don't need you anymore. I don't need the baggy tops that hide my "toubled" areas. I don't need the skirts from 2001 (when I met Allen) that are too short, even if I do fit in them again. But I am not ready to do that, just yet.

That's the trouble with the truth, isn't it? Truth hurts. It means you bear your soul, you open yourself up and let the sun shine in. You dust off the dirt that has been cluttering and stocking up on your sills, shelves and bones. The trouble with the truth is that once you face it , you have just created a sh*%load of work for yourself! Because now, as I am shedding these pounds and feelings, I want my house and everything else to match. So this mess I am surrounding myself in is everything that has made its way from upstairs.

I have been feeling lighter this week. (Besides moments of hormonal rage). I have been lifted up by my friends, breakthroughs in Allen and the fact that Spring is finally showing it's face is helping too.

I don't feel like I am dieting anymore. I feel like I am eating like I am supposed to and not worried about what I am making to eat. Each and everyday this process is getting smoother and more manageable. I fear Tina's revelations are true: This is the easiest part. It maybe all uphill from here, but there is definitely a better view from the top.