The universe is funny in that it often delivers just what you need...just when you need it. Due to poor planning on my part, I've been in a state of hormone flux the last couple of weeks (that's what happens when you forget to schedule an appointment to get a refill on your birth control pills) and today it seemed to come to a head--just as I finally got myself to Planned Parenthood for the required blood pressure check (120/70, which is HEALTHY, after months of being a bit elevated. YAY!!).
The nurse at PP advised me to start the pills today to avoid anymore crazy hormone-induced feelings of wanting to cry at nothing, so I took one immediately on arriving home. But still, I couldn't escape that feeling of, "Gah, everything SUCKS today" that sometimes happens.
Imagine my delight when I stepped out to get the mail and found a FedEx package addressed to me on the doorstep. I knew it was most likely a belated birthday gift from one of my duck ladies. Inside, a pair of black "booty" shorts with ROCK STAR printed across the rear end. I've never been one to wear pants with words on the derriere but I will definitely make an exception for these. Because referring to myself as a "rock star" has been a repeated theme since I've been working with M. the Reasonable, and I'm so close to goal weight. I feel like I've earned the right to strut around the gym with ROCK STAR on the booty I've worked so hard to tone and firm.
And I don't care what anyone thinks of that.
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