Down 2 pounds this week. If I can just take off another three, I’ll be at my 10% goal.
I was due for my “good” week on the scale, so I’m glad for the loss. I’ve been in such a weird mood all week that it was going to be a toss-up.
Like, I always stay within my points. But my stress level always determines the weight outcome. When I’m stressed, I gain. But apparently now when I’m apathetic and out-of-it, I lose. Go, me.
One of my friends at work came over on Thursday to give me a hug and to say congratulations on my anniversary. And she said the swear word: vacation. As in, whatever happened with it.
I said our colleague who told me I’m not special really put a dent in my morale. And that my boss promises to make it up to me somehow.
This week I haven’t done anything special. I worked at a normal capacity. And I’m so far behind, it isn’t funny. This company counts on me to bust my ass. When I don’t, sure I’m the only one who suffers. But I’m going to be suffering next week because I was too sad this week to know that I’m not special there.
She said she understands, that she busts her butt and there is no special dispensation or acknowledgment of it.
And it occurred to me.
EVERYBODY THINKS THEY’RE SPECIAL.
That’s why you can’t treat the special as actually being special. Because everyone else is either sacrificing as much as they can, or they think they are.
So when you put somebody truly extraordinary next to them, they don’t even realize it.
WHAT A REVELATION.
Makes me think of my 12th-grade A.P. literature teacher who told us all point-blank, “You’re not special.”
Words to live by. Especially when everyone has their own definition of it. Maybe there are truly extraordinary people who look at me like, pfft, who do you think you are?
At least I’ll always be goddess of my own world.