Friday, April 1, 2011

Eater's remorse. And a documentary: Seeking Happily Ever After.

Thank goodness it's Friday.
This is my "I'm so happy it's Friday" face.
This week  has been incredibly long.

My friends (two of my bridesmaids!) from Little Rock are coming up tonight, and I'm in serious need of girl time. I can't wait for them to hang out with some of my other ladies. I guess I should try to plan something ... but seriously, I made a to-do list, and I cried. OK, I didn't literally cry, but I very easily could have.

Remember how I said my friends were coming? Well, the "back" bedroom (aka junk room that's full of all the stuff I've never unpacked), had to be completely emptied so I could actually put the bed down. Guess when I started this task? Last night. I'm the ultimate procrastinator. It's true. Not my best trait.

Also, I'm not good at staying on task. I have to do 14 things at once. So, last night I chose to watch the documentary Seeking Happily Ever After. This award-winning feature-length documentary details why there are more single 30-something women in the U.S. than ever before, and whether women of all ages are redefining "happily ever after."

I thought it was fantastic, and you should definitely watch the film.
Back to the organizing.
How to complete this task? Move everything in the living room with the grand plan of unpacking and organizing it all.

Unfortunately, this isn't even everything. How can so much stuff be in ONE room?

My working shoes.

Honestly, except for the important stuff (like luggage), I should just throw it all away.
At around 1:30 a.m., I realized this was dumb and decided I would take it to the storage unit "shed" in the yard. 

This was dumb, too. I turned on the deck light, but the "storage unit" is in the corner. Did I bring a flashlight on my first (and last) trip? Nope.

As I turned the latch to open the door, I convinced myself there was a gang of burglars living in the wooden box, and I was immediately terrified. With a racing heart, I threw the boxes in there and promptly ran inside.

Yep, it's all in the garage now.

Things I needed to do this week that I haven't (some of these are one-time tasks; some are things I want to do more often):
  • paint my nails (and toenails)--I might be skipping my lunch workout to do this
  • work out more
  • secure reception/ceremony music
  • call cake people to reserve cake (have no idea what I want "cake" to look like, but that's OK)
  • start using my Clarisonic more so I can have B-E-A-utiful skin for our engagement pictures (April 23)
  • start organizing house so I don't have to shove all the junk into the garage; I'm tired of the cycle
  • make a doctor's appointment I need
  • several Junior League related items
  • and on and on...
I'm just telling myself that this was one of those weeks where I needed a break. Next week, I'm a new woman. Or something like that ...

OK, on to the post topic: FOOD REMORSE

I might have eaten something for breakfast that was frosted. Why? Perhaps it's because of the above list. When we do things like this, I think it can be a wake up call to just take a second to breathe, relax and remember you can't let the to-do list take over your life. In reality, none of that stuff is more important than my health.

And frosted pastries are not the way to ensure that all of this work on the wedding will be worth it because I won't be able to fit in my dress.

I tossed the rest of the "food remorse" item in the trash, got some water and told myself that everyone has moments of weakness.

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