. . . there's so much salt and gunk on your back window that when your husband puts the big blue recycling bin at the end of the driveway on garbage day and doesn't tell you it's there, you might just back right into it with your mom-mobile. And when you do that, the stupid thing might just tip over and the lid might fling itself open. What might happen next is that a wine bottle and a plastic Rich Chocolate Royale SlimFast container might roll out of the recycling bin and skitter across the cul-de-sac on which you live. And you might have to hop out of your van in sub-zero weather and chase these items across the ice-covered asphalt. At 7:00 a.m.
For the record, I had my van washed the next day. The salt is about an inch thick on the floor of our garage. I often walk around with salt streaks on my pants or coat from grazing a parked car (whether mine or someone else's). I purposely moved to an area of the country known for long winters so I know I shouldn't complain. But geez, this winter has been just brutal. The three of us have been stuck indoors together for far too long. I can't walk my dogs and I can't kick the kid out and tell her to go ride her bike. The whole scene is just getting old. Today I put the opening of the farmers' market on my calendar so that I can pretend it's coming soon.
In other news, I am thinking of going back to Weight Watchers. Another side effect of the long sucky winter is having more time to do nothing but think about the next meal/snack/whatever. I was doing pretty well before my sister's wedding but have struggled since then. I read somewhere that it takes something like 30 hours of exercise to burn a pound of fat. I continue to go to the gym and to yoga regularly. But I need to remind myself of what I've always known - that it all comes down to the food. So, we'll see. I haven't been to Weight Watchers in over a year. I've been logging my food (sometimes carefully, sometimes not) on SparkPeople, but I think I may need the accountability of weighing in every week. Mostly, I just get tired of worrying about my weight all the time.
Speaking of yoga, I'm headed there now. A funny thing happens when I enter the yoga studio, take my shoes off, and spread out my purple mat. I suddenly feel like I just might be amazing and strong and even a little bit beautiful. Then I'll leave the studio and the universe will find little ways to remind me that I am, in fact, none of those things. Blah.