Everyone Gets One Day to Feel Absolutely Awful

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I’m probably going to regret these words in the morning, but here goes nothing: I feel disgusting.

If my soul had a face, this is what it would look like.

Yep, I sure do. Why, you might be asking yourself? Why would someone who eats less than 1500 calories a day (naturally) feel disgusting in her own flesh and skin? I’m putting myself through hell right now, that’s why.

I’ve signed myself up for 8-weeks of fitness classes and tomorrow is the first Wednesday class. Not so bad…until you realize it’s at 7 am in the morning. Yup, you heard me right. That early in the morning, and then I have a full 8-hour day ahead of me. What am I going to do when it’s not yoga? I sweat on a very manly level, and what happens when we get to kickboxing or step?

Give it a hi-ya!

I’m going to be soaked, and I’ll only have 20 minutes to look presentable for my office afterwards. I just need my hair to cooperate one morning a week. That’s not so much to ask, is it? We shall see how the next two months play out.

I can’t see!

On top of everything else right now, I opened the oven to remove my single-serve pizza and the heat blast not only fogged up my glasses with steam, but it also melted my mascara to my eyelashes and I could feel them stick to my upper eyelids. Ugh I’m just a mess right now!

“To be a star is to own the world and all the people in it. After a taste of stardom, everything else is poverty.”

Those are the words of Hedy Lamarr, who is quite the scene stealer herself. Why do these words ring true to my soul? I’m not making a fuss over myself right now because I feel like I’m lacking my ‘star quality.’

Drop dead gorgeous

Oh, what am I saying? I’ve been telling myself for a while that I’ve lost my personal sense of stardom. I used to be the star in my own life. Friends,  many invitations to hang-out and party, money to spend on books/clothes/music, and I would look in the mirror and actually like what I see. Now? I usually tell myself one of two things: 1.) You’re looking a little dark around the eyes (from lack of sleep, no doubt), or 2.) Damn that hair/make-up smudge/rebel eyebrow hair.

Or I feel like I’m bloated up like a pink Oomp-Loompa

Do you see a problem with this? I’m not looking in the mirror and saying how beautiful I think I am. Inside AND out. I’m not doing that. I’m not looking at myself and seeing something beautiful. I’m looking at myself and seeing a sad sack of lumpiness.

I’m not kidding. Does this make me sound terrible self-deprecating or what?

Because I love myself a little too much.

Don’t get me wrong. I have my good days where I look and say, “Hey. I’m looking pretty dang good right now, and that lip gloss is totally banging.” (Okay, maybe not that last part.) You get what I mean.

I’m also sitting here watching Glee (and the terrible drama that is Rachel Berry losing her virginity to Jesse James of vocal adrenaline), eating a cheese pizza along with sour cream and onion chips. I went shopping instead of going to the gym like I had originally planned.

Ugh. Gag me.

Fat is what I’m feeling right now. I am so not getting my insurance money back from hitting my gym visitation quota this month. Not unless I kick myself in the butt. And, I mean kick my butt seriously. Yoga at 7 am is one thing. Going to the gym 8-12 times a month is a completely new beast.

I also meant to cook dinner tonight (Cue evil looks from my sister for not following through on that exclamation of the night. I’m sorry, but you were upstairs doing whatever with your fiance, and I had a headache and just didn’t feel like cooking tonight! I’ll do it tomorrow, damn it!)

It’s not like I was going to make a gourmet meal or anything.

For right now, I’m just going to settle down with my pizza and watch the rest of this virginity drama. Then, I need to hit my sheets (not for that reason!). I have to be up early to get my yoga on.


Yoga is the mind-settler of the Jedi. It lets you connect all that is around you, and all that is within you. It might sound like mumbo-jumbo, but it actually works.

If you don’t believe me? Try it yourself. If you let yourself go and lose yourself in the movement, you might feel the connectedness, too. But, seriously.  Just try it.

The Force and I are one.

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