Mondays are Hell…

I envisioned my Monday morning starting off with a bang! I’d leap out of bed before my alarm went off, energized by this new health journey I’ve decided to take. My hair would be flowing and gorgeous, my complexion would be clear and I’d radiate pure awesomeness.

In reality, I hit the snooze button three times before finally dragging my sorry ass out of bed. We’ll have to try that ‘leaping out of bed’ thing tomorrow. First glance in the mirror brings me back to reality. Two pimples and I have bed head. Sigh. Don’t feel defeated…don’t be defeated…

I manage to tame my curls and pop the pesky pimples. I decide to get wild and throw some moisturizer on my face (my new hairstylist recommended I try a skin care routine). I glance at my makeup, long abandoned and covered in a thin veil of dust. Maybe we’ll try that tomorrow.

In my mind, I bound downstairs to prepare a super healthy breakfast and lunch, only to realize that I overslept and need to get the hell out of the house. I throw a banana and some strawberries in my bag and I’m off. Not quite the morning that I had planned but we’ll just roll with it.

At work my stomach grumbles and I look at my strawberries. I like strawberries. I like muffins more and I’m wishing I would have grabbed one instead of the fruit. I begrudgingly eat the berries, trying to find the joy in being healthy. It’s an elusive feeling at this point.

My brain wants me to run over to 7-11 at lunch for junk food. I want to give in soooo bad. Instead I sit with my coworkers and sip my peppermint tea.

The afternoon finds me scouring my desk drawers for any hidden chocolate, jones-ing for a hit like a meth addict. All I come up with is berry flavoured tic tacs and I gobble them up.

The workday ends and I get home to see the muffins on the counter. I’m possessed. I have no control over my body. I don’t even take my jacket off. I rip open the bag and inhale a red velvet muffin. The dog is looking at me like I’m the animal in the house, not him. I feel instant guilt.

Supper is uninspiring – tacos. I hate tacos but the Bear loves them and as long as she’s eating that’s all that matters. The rest of the night seems to slide downhill mentally. I start to beat myself up for not working out but the couch is so comfy and the dog has his head on my leg so I can’t possibly move. Plus I’m watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.

Taking stock of the day, I don’t feel like this was an overwhelming win but then again Rome wasn’t built in a day. We’ll start with small things, self care things and all the other things will fall into place. Tomorrow…mascara….

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