Recently, Christine (who I adore and am so glad I just met!!) wrote a fun post called ‘confessions‘ and I loved it and thought it would make for a great post myself. So, here goes, my riff on ‘confessions’ – perfectly-imperfect.
- For as much as I preach on about numbers not mattering and it’s all in how you feel, I confess that sometimes they do ‘count,’ especially when you see the number (on the scale, accidentally!) and are floored by how…good it is. And how proud you feel. And how much you want to hate how proud you felt at JUST A NUMBER. But float on cloud 9 all day as a result.
- …but that same number can still turn me into a tailspin of ‘what if’s’ – what if it wasn’t right, what if she read it wrong, what if, what if, what if. there I go, stealing my own joy again.
- As often as I crave veggies galore (and kabocha, specifically), I probably crave chocolate – and wine – equally as much, if not more.
- For as much as I love running, I hate running. Just a titch. (but I really do love it. No, really. LOL)
- I can’t go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink. Or anywhere, for that matter. Yet, I *can* leave a dishwasher full of clean dishes for 24 hours and wash every dish by hand because I hate emptying the dishwasher and was waiting for M to do it
- As much as I love social media, I kinda hate it too. Is that weird? I’m rarely on Twitter (getting back to it a little bit), but am all over instagram and snapchat, like whoa.
- As hard as I’m working at squashing the comparison-itis bug, I still do it. More often than I’d like to admit, but I have gotten better, much better.
- I think I run faster than I did last winter, outside. I have no gauge to that, however, except how I feel, since I don’t, never have, and never will, run with a Garmin (see #1. numbers!).
- I am a terrible bullshit artist. If I am caught on a call with a question and it was that very moment I decided to zone out into Facebook-land, thinking my ‘part’ of the call was done, bam, question for moi. I don’t try to fake a real reason, because that’s far more obvious than owning up. Yes?
- I have zero attention span these days when it comes to TV. Unless it is Chopped or some other Food Network show, I can’t be bothered. I’d rather just sit on the couch, next to M, and zone out to whatever he’s watching. I used to be a DvR QUEEN and watch tons of shows. Now? notsomuch. Does that make me old? or weird? or both?
- bonus confession – for as much as I *think* I’m doing awesome in the ‘letting go’ and giving up control thing, I seriously suck at it. I can do it for, say, a day, but then I’m back to my type A, uber particular ways. Gosh, this is a hard one to break.
So, there ya have it, my perfectly-imperfect confessions. Care to share any?