Clean slates
So, my favorite thing about my WeightWatchers app — and the program in general — is that when you log in every day, your sins of the past have been erased and you start with a clean slate.
Your points record from the previous day is gone. You ares shown all the points you’re allowed to eat today, and a blank tracking form to chart them as you consume them.
It’s liberating. It’s a new day, in every sense of the word. I can’t express how appreciative I am to have a visual reminder that I get to start over fresh, every single day.
I wish life had that ability to show us that we can leave yesterday’s problems right where we found them.
***
On the clean-slate theme, something I wrote yesterday bugged me. And probably not the thing that close-attention-payers would think.
I always refer to Whorothy as ugly. And when I speak in my broad terms, like I tend to do, I generalize people who are “uglier” than me.
I feel like I need to erase that. But since I don’t do a lot of erasing around here, I want to explain and even berate myself.
First of all, I ain’t no beauty queen behind this keyboard. I struggle with my weight, extraordinarily poor hair and an absolute inability to confront the right people or control my absolute disappointment or disgust around the wrong ones. First-place prize, I am not.
But I try to be gentle with those who need it. I try to be a cheerleader to those who need some inspiration, those whose chosen ones walk over them with shit-kickers. I really think what I lack in the ability to respond quickly is more than made up for in my ability to pinpoint the best course of action. I work super-hard. And I care. Anything you can say negative about me, you have to also say, “Well, she follows her heart and busts her ass.”
So when I rage against Whorothy, realize A) she inspires absolute lunacy and B) she’s a proxy for all that is unfair in my world.
And so when I say it crushes my soul that men choose those who are uglier than me, I mean inside and out. I watch her absolutely zing a nice person online. Decimate him. And insulting people on their own Facebook page for all their friends to see is unfair. Like, how do you pass off that piece of shit as your girlfriend when everyone is looking at her going, wow, what a cunt?
What my real intention in cleaning my sins today, however, is to point out that I’ve been dumped for many beautiful women in my day. Inside and out. And I am still friends with all my boys and I don’t want a single one of them to think I’m insulting their queens.
I’ve always been the girl to approve their betrotheds. Even if they would have still shacked up with/married them anyway, they always felt better when I said, “You did good.” And they did. They all did.
I think it was easier back then for me, because I was a big believer in not forcing a “meant to be” and that my own meant-to-be was yet to come. Now that they’ve all been married for 10 years, my faith is a little shaken.
And if I’m real honest with myself, maybe some people take up more time than they should in my mind because I wonder if it’s just that I’m not GOOD at separating friends from something more.
In any case, you’ll probably notice that I haven’t talked about Topo Gigio (who hearts Whorothy) for months. That’s because he’s long gone and I have new problems I’m not blogging about. I just continue to wonder why on earth anybody could love her (and not me). IF she were sweet or beautiful or kind or treated him well or was anything but what I perceive her to be, I would be short about three dozen blog entries.
Anyway, to all my guys: Your ladies are beautiful. Because they love you.
Any additional personalities or looks are only icing on the cake.
Alas, my clean slate involves worrying about ME, not worrying about other (good) people’s choices. It’s hard to separate myself when I think I’m being helpful, but I’m not. People need to come to their own conclusions. And if ever he does realize I’m right, I don’t think I’d be the first one he calls.
Maybe he would if I’d reacted differently all along. *shrug* I’m not going to apologize for wanting the best for people. I just have to get better at accepting when I don’t fit their definition of “best.”