Its a bitch to get old, man.

But it is always better than the alternative.

I went to see my physical therapist, physical, as opposed to my shrink...don't ask about my shoulder injury that he works on. It makes me feel older to complain about my aches and pains. As I was walking in the door of the office, I was thinking about something that would make a great blog post. I didn't write it down, and consequently, I've forgotten what the heck it was about.

Since I can't remember that, I'm going to indulge in my vanity instead and tell you how fabulous I'm looking these days.

I had my hair cut and colored over the weekend. This super-super-super short style I'm wearing needs cut often. More than about 3 weeks and it is too long. My hairdresser (love, love, love, love him) put streaks of 3 colors in my hair; a blonde, and two reds. One very red, nearly punk, and the other darker, more of my mother's natural hair color, an auburn. Depending on which direction I style my hair, the punk streaks either show or don't, which is a good thing now that I'm working. Conservative and businesslike for work, punk and loud when I'm not.

Then I went shopping for new clothes; I'm broke as a joke, but didn't have a full week's worth of work clothes since I shit-canned all the stuff that doesn't fit me. Now I've got a more than a week's worth of beautiful clothes thanks to the assistance of my friend K (couldn't have done it without ya, babe!) and most of it? Is a size 10. Considering that my most comfortable suit a year ago was an 18, I'm pretty damn happy about that. Ten! Ten!! Yes, I still have about 25-27 pounds to go, and yes, I'm still working my ass off on it, but I look better than I have since my early 20s. I'm older, more confident, and more fabulous too.

Still highly medicated for depression, though. And not interested for even a second in tapering the anti-depressants right now. I still don't want to need to take them for the rest of my life, and the sooner I can get off them, the better, but they're working right now and I'm feeling better than I have in about a year. I know that part of feeling better is because I'm back to work; my shrink told me that I could not allow my self-worth to be tied up in what I do for a living. I'm still working on that one.

Also still working through the grief of my Aunt passing away. One day at a time on that one.

I'm very cautiously optimistic about feeling better. Once upon a time, when DH and I had just moved in to our current house, the non-profit job was going very well, I remember telling a friend that everything was going swimmingly but yet I had this sense of impending doom. In fact, I'm pretty sure I wrote about it. Is it my Catholic upbringing that makes me wait for the other shoe to drop? Superstition? I don't know. But I'd rather feel that than as if I was living in a black hole.