Went to the gym for the first time in over a week. It felt great. Every time I thought of the office bully (who, I recently learned, is even meaner than I realized) who has been a dick to me for at least six months, I just worked out harder. I lifted weights, did squats and glute bridges. I thought about potential exit strategies from my job. Mostly though, I focused on feeling stronger, healthier, tougher, taller. I thought of the wedding my husband and I are attending at the end of October and what kind of shape I want to be in. The excitement of buying a new cocktail dress. Celebrating our friends. Being even more fit for my next (fingers crossed) pregnancy.
Both of my bosses are out this week. I want to take exquisite care of myself: get back into the gym routine, sleep well, eat well, take care of the little odds and ends that need handling. Get on stage, write new jokes, tweak older jokes, be nice to people. On Thursday, I have my follow-up appointment with the surgeon who performed my D&C. I hope she’ll tell me that the cramping and bleeding will stop soon and that I can have sex again.
This indeed feels like a time to take stock. Changes are afoot, my friends. Changes are afoot.