I used to weigh myself two times a day all through college and until I had my first child -- and began again after my second was born. It started because the daily dorm breakfast of buttered cinnamon toast (three slices) ended up pushing on the seams of my jeans. When I finally got on the scale - it turned out I was up 8 pounds - Never had a weight issue before and now I was freaked.
Yesterday morning, I woke up ridiculously late, like 10 am, feeling like a prizefighter who had taken in the full 15 rounds. It felt great to sleep in -- 'this must be what the kids feel like -- late nights -- deep long sleeps -- delish.' Splashing refreshing cold water on my face -- I looked up and I caught a glimpse of -- someone else?
My travel bucket list just got really long because I stole my friend's and added a few of my own to it. Just this past winter, I was on a women's ski trip and met a new friend from Toronto. We were talking about travels and she told me she had a travel bucket list. I loved that she had it on her iPhone. I asked if she minded sharing it with me and so she did.
Entering my closet to look for evening wear is not a joyful experience, which is too bad because I love to dress up. It's not that I don't own dress up clothes. It's just that my 'collection' was curated over the last few decades. It's not the quantity or even the quality of offerings; it's the timeliness factor. My stuff looks dated.
On a blizzard-y Boston morning, my partner Lea Anne and I agreed to brave the weather and show up to play our scheduled tennis match. Our willing competitors had a rough commute as well -- so when we all met court side, we were equally pumped to play, sheltered from the storm in our warm tennis bubble.