Swimming/Slimming/Slamming

;hfxjgSo while I am starting another day this week with a PT cancellation, when I went yesterday I scared the heck out of a tech when careening  backwards during an exercise I’d seemed to have mastered weeks ago. Today I would need, and don’t quite feel safe, to drive. My legs ache and I can’t just spirit away the fatigue. My goal today is not to spend the entire thing in bed — I felt perky enough to go to assistive yoga after PT, but went to bed nearly in tears when my spoons ran out too soon. Then there was a poorly-executed fall in the bathroom (SURPRISE: it involved a toilet) and my ribcage was its tender victim.*

i-do-my-own-stunts

This is proudly owned by me.

But the new t-shirt I got in the mail was a hit both at PT and yoga. My best friend sent a birthday package that happened to arrive Tuesday, when things this week were at their worst. It contained the t-shirt you see here, and wearing it was an enjoyable irony while I floundered through a day.

I can’t regret yesterday’s physical activity — upon waking and detecting muscles I didn’t previously know could be summoned it’s at least as exciting as I am exhausted. An added benefit of this wicked-awesome new t-shirt is that it swims on me in a size I would have not long ago found tight; after 30 years of obesity I still cannot get over the joy of having left that particular part of myself behind.

Celebration of new muscles being defined will hopefully help spur completion of the many home-related tasks which have gone to pot this week. ZOMG, abs!

(Focus on those abs and git ‘er done, self.)

* frying pan burns to the leg and toilet-to-ribcage injuries are entertaining new editions to the anthology of falls that I clearly need to write.

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