Seventy two weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 235
- Blood Sugar: 99
Up a pound and a half over the last two weeks. Some of that can be blamed on Thanksgiving, but the rest of it is the same shit I’ve been doing for the last six months. It’s very tempting to just say, “I guess this is where I’m at, I’ll just maintain it,” but I honestly know I can get down to 225. I’m not sure I can get there just on walking the dogs or whatever, but I guess the point is that I’m not gonna stop trying. Also? I’m pretty stoked with 235. This is still my second goal after all.
2020 needs to end in a fucking hurry. I have three more weeks of school, maybe four with the grading, and then I’m done and I’m kinda dreading the depression that kicks in this time of year, but I’m also ready to be depressed if it means I’m done with fucking grading.
Three things I’m grateful for:
I’m grateful that I’m less than a month away from being done with fucking grading. Still loving The Mandalorian. I’ve been saying for years that Jedi would be fucking terrifying if you actually encountered one in the world, and the last episode gave us exactly that depiction of a Jedi, and it was fucking awesome. Also, this season is really doing a great job of world building and expanding the scope of the overall Star Wars story.
- This is something I want to talk about somewhere else (because I’ll go on for a thousand words and I don’t want to do that here) but I’m grateful for the truth. Yes, this is a politics thing, but that’s all I’m saying here.
- I’m grateful for my health. I’ve spoken with so many people who are getting Covid. One of my favorite people spent a good part of last week on a ventilator. This disease is fucking terrifying, and I’m so grateful I don’t have it.
- And, as long as I’m on that train of thought, I’m so grateful that I get to work from home. I HATE teaching online. But it’s so much better than being out of work or being on a ventilator. This disease is fucking terrifying.
I’m good this week. Christmas is up here at the house, and the house looks great. A lot of our neighbors are following suit. It’s almost as though we’re trying to collectively will this miserable train wreck of a year into the fucking corn field where it belongs. Alas. None of us is Bill Mumy.
Here, have a graphic: