I was totally engulfed in my couch when I realized what time it was. My youngest was in the other room playing with his daughter who is close in age so I looked at him and said "would you tell the girls it's bed time"
He looked at me and tilted his head to one side, his brown eyes gazing at me.
"just tell them to go to bed" and he left the room. I was content, happy, and found his father like demeanor with the girls rather sexy. I looked down at my toned, olive colored skin and remember thinking how white looked awesome on it.
then I woke up.
I have adored Johnny Depp since before he was a Pirate. I have liked him since way back on "21 Jump Street" and his debut on "Nightmare on Elm Street".
Let's just say he's my fifth member of Duran Duran
I lay there in bed a moment, all the weight of my body crashing back to reality. I took a look at my arms...maybe they would be toned and olive complexed? I sighed as I saw the familiar jiggle of white dotted with a calico of freckles even down to the finger tips. My nails chewed and scraggly, my ring appearing to be cutting off the circulation of a pudgy stout finger.
I slithered out of bed towards the bathroom to complete my morning routine: pee, weight (175), and avoid the mirror like the vampiress I can be before my morning cup of java.
Standing in the kitchen, head on the cabinet, waiting for my first cup to finish brewing (a task that any coffee drinker knows is the longest part of the day) and I think
"aren't good dreams supposed to make one feel GOOD?!"
I closed my eyes and for a fleeting moment saw myself standing there. Tall, slender, long black hair, olive complexion, maybe I have an accent, my white dress flowing about me....sighs Everything I could never be short of switching ethnicity with somebody.
I open them. Coffee just starting to brew.
What was I going to do today? Summer's arrived and the weather's going to break over 100 this week. I looked up long enough to get a good look at my kitchen and for the first time that morning, formed a smile. It is pink. Even now when I should be getting tired of the color, it still makes me smile. I only wish I could carry it to the next house.
I sit down at the computer with my coffee and two creamers and think "what to do what to do". I can't go back to the gym after last week's fart fiasco! I shake my head to clear the thought. I AM that woman. The woman with the wild hair tucked in a ponytail, colored weekly to diffuse it. The jiggly, calico, middle aged, mirror avoiding, gym tootin woman in her pink kitchen sipping her morning coffee wishing she were someone else. Anyone else.
I glance through Spark blogs and smile a little. Plans, goals, fears, frustrations. Everyone pushing forward and towards something. I look at the time. I could've been done with a morning routine....I still can. It's just an hour, or even a half, or as a very good Sparkie friend said "ten minutes a day....just MOVE"
I look at the workout DVDs. Not today...too hot
a walk? a run?
No way Jose
No bathing suit
then get to the gym and move!!
Are you nuts?? My body BETRAYED me while running on the treadmill! I know the whole state of California heard it, I just KNOW it and they've all labeled me I feel it. It was bad enough being banned from the dumbbells by fear, but now?? are you NUTS?!
You are right. Just sit there, in your pink kitchen dreaming another dream that will never happen as long as you do nothing about it. Wait, wait for nothing except to go to bed for another dream. That will solve all your problems. Stay comfortable why don't you? Avoidance is key in this now isn't it?
that's what I thought. Your workout clothes are on the dryer. Now, what are we doing today?
I bet Jillian is a lot nicer than you. I'm taking the girls swimming at the gym. I'm going to run on the treadmill, but if anything happens.....I'll just die I know it.
If anything happens you can come back and dye your hair again. Hair color is on the kitchen counter...they'll never recognize you. Just like they will never recognize you in your absolutely gorgeous dress. Are you going to let your daughter keep it, or are you going to fight for it?
I guess I'm going.
I pick up the clothes off the dryer and my mind tries to clear itself from the fog and confetti cluttering it.
I am doing this for me. I won't be that girl in the dream, but I can be a dream girl.
A girl with muscle, tonnage, and definition. A girl running with shorts that finally don't ride and running for fun, not just cuz she has to. Someone who faces her own silly childhood fears of the gym and encourages others there. A girl who colors her hair for fun and wears sexy dresses and heals because she can. A half blind, partially deaf, middle aged girl with fair skin covered in calico freckles down to her fingertips,
that could be sexy, right?