Old Man
Me: Quick, give me a fake name for yourself.
Mike: Hmmmmm. Peter.
Me: That’s an old man name. Give me a younger name.
Mike, seemingly serious: Harold.
What is wrong with the boy? Peter? Harold? Does he think he was born in 1928?
In the end I went with a name of my own choosing. I’m just glad he didn’t decide he wanted to name Erik Harold instead. I would have had to put my very large foot down.
How stupid is it that I can’t ever seem to put my own name on my best writing? The more personal it is, the more I can’t stand the thought of people I know reading it so I use psuedonymns. At least this time a few people know about it. A couple of you may be able to guess what I’m talking about when the new issue of Mosaic Minds comes out on Saturday.
I feel like I’m talking in circles here. Someone just needs to slap me. I am way too stressed. I need to go work my stress out on the elliptical machine, but I don’t have time for that nonsense.
Speaking of the elliptical, Operation: Fat Banishment is at a standstill. I’m wavering between three pounds and just can’t break the barrier. I’m about eight pounds away from being the thinnest I’ve been my entire adult life, but at the rate I’m going I’m never going to see it. My body really likes this weight and I don’t have the will power or energy to stick to an extremely strict diet or work out 2 hours a day. When I hit my thinnest I was biking to and from work, doing at least 45 minutes on the elliptical six days a week and doing an hour of water aerobics five days a week. What new mother has time for that much working out? I went on a walk with a friend today, but her daughter was being really fussy so we mostly just sat and watched the older kids playing. I didn’t mind that at all (usually it’s E who causes us to stop and sit around), but I am disappointed that I didn’t get a workout in. Ugh. Tomorrow another group is going on a walk so if E is behaving we’ll go and try to burn off a few calories. I think I need a new motivation to lose more weight. I think I will buy myself a new full price shirt from a nice store if I can hit XX5. That is only five pounds. I can do it. I am woman, hear me roar!