Still working out details. Strider's getting us a hotel room nearby the concert so we don't have to travel after the excitement; I'm getting us VIP passes for after the show. I'm still fretting over what to wear. What shoes? New shoes? Sandals? Will it still be nasty and cold? If so, is the dress too thin? Is my little black jacket enough? What jewelry? And what to do with my hair? And what bag to carry? Should I get a pro manicure? If I end up in sandals I'll have to get a pedicure too. Should I bring him something? What? This is the series of bibble running through my mind every spare minute. Right down to what indelible pen to buy and who's gonna tattoo me. The tat guy I knew in town is nowhere to be found.
Also, I think this is what's really holding me to the diet. I flat out refuse to be on a walker when I meet him. A cane is bad enough, though it's a snazzy cane. I don't care if I'm in hellapain, I'm going to look marvelous. And we all know that it's more important to look good than to feel good.
So 3 weeks into the diet, I'm wearing a size 6 1/2 ring that I haven't been able to wear since before the opiates came along. It's a damn boring diet, and no birthday dinner so no break yet either, but it's working. I haven't lost energy and in fact I'm feeling stronger. In the morning I'm going to move the bed and shift the boxes in the bedroom closet. A production, but necessary, and it'll give me a good workout. HUD is coming next week; the heat thingies have to be clear, the pull-string alarms have to hang free to the ground, the water heater has to have clearance around it. I won't have a gal friday til Friday this week; the VNA is nuts, as always. And aides don't move furniture, or lamps, or well, anything. Tuesday will be a sitting day anyway, it's supposed to start raining tomorrow. Oh, joy..