I have it all figured out!

Ha! Just kidding. I really only figured one or two things out. One of those things is this: My use of profanity is directly proportionate to my level of stress and/or excitement. I went back & re-read a couple of my old blog posts & saw that I used far more dirty words on the days I was most overwhelmed. Granted, I've been known to cuss like a sailor since I could form words, but ever since my sweet little wide-eyed nephew exclaimed "Oh, shit!" when I accidentally spilled his smoothie in my van, I decided I should start censoring myself for the mini people.** That was carrying over into my blog posts until I got all dark & angsty. Guess it's back to the f@*%ing drawing board. (Tee hee hee! I couldn't help myself.)

**The reason I didn't come to the same conclusion with my own kiddo is b/c she has only uttered a curse word once or twice in her whole 9 years. Otherwise, she tells me to watch my mouth or use alternate words like "crackers" and "freak" in place of my favorite profane exclamations. Further proof that she may be a robot & not my genetic mini at all. (Minus the fact that she looks exactly like I did at her age & I have the video to prove I squished her out my hoo-nanny. But I digress.)

I can't tell for sure if it's the copious amounts of coffee I've already consumed this morning or if it's the fact that my anxiety has subsided enough that I've stopped hyperventilating but I am in a spunky mood. Okay, so I'm usually spunky, but it seems I've been more dull lately. It's my own fault. I spend too much time in my head. That is not the best place for me to be sometimes. Today I have officially decreed there will be no bitching, moaning, or whining. Time to suck it up, roll up my sleeves, and get with the program.

The other thing I figured out today is this: I've got my nephew tonight, but otherwise have no plans so I'm going to keep a steady flow of caffeine running through my body until my elliptical is accessible. I am going go throw on those workout pants that have been worn exclusively as jammies for the past few months and I'm going to sweat in them. I'm going to sweat & pant & push myself. Then tomorrow, I'm going to do it again. And the next day, too. I'm going to drop these 10 lbs I've regained, then drop the remaining 20 pounds that I was well on my way to losing last year. I will be a pre-pregnancy Trish again. (Minus the things I cannot change like my ridiculously bad memory, the fact that I pee when I sneeze, and my lovely collection of Freddy Kreuger victim-esque stretch marks.)

How that for motivation, bitches?!