This and That

After a rough start Bob's doing a bit better. His leaves are greener, more buoyant. Yes, I call the black tartarian cherry tree Bob. Yes, I talk to him. I tell him how good he’s looking and how much I miss him. No, I am not sleeping with the tree. Yet.

You do grief your way I'll do it mine
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Last night I dreamt The Amazing Bob and I were meandering around town – no apparent destination, just  walking and talking. We’d run into friends – I'd speak with them of my overwhelming heartache, the grief that's riding me like some grossly obese jockey. But...but TAB was standing right there next to me as I spoke these words.

Weird.

Did my man have anything to say to our chums? Nope, when he spoke it was only to me.

In relatively short order, I came to understand why this was. While TAB was clearly by my side – we were having convos and everything – he wasn’t alive again.

Motherfucking hell and damnation!
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I only mention it but, on chilly nights, Coco sleeps on top of me. Now then, I'm a late middle aged babe – me and sleep have an uneasy relationship as it is. Coco’s not helping.

If I’m on my side, in the much favored fetal pose, our girl’s grabbing Zs on my hip. Yup, I'm tellin' you, she's perched there like a vulture. If I’m on my back? She’s curled up on my belly. Just FYI, Coco’s a lot heavier than she looks. Dense like a neutron star is what she is.

Shut the bedroom door, you say? What are you – nuts? monstrously cruel? Yes, here we have MORE proof of my stone cat doormat-ism!
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I'm curious – how does one "wrap off 30 pounds?" And what's this "fat burning 'beige fat'?" This plan will make "4 inches of belly fat disappear overnight?"

Pardon me while I snort derisively. Coupla things:

• I want to lose weight all over, not just the tum-tum. 
• As it turns out "beige fat" really is a thing BUT, unsurprisingly, this mag's headlines are touting it as an overnight Wonder Cure. WRONG!

I'm six weeks into diet Hell and doing OK for the most part. That is, I'm getting exercise on, minimum, five out of seven days and keeping my daily calorie allowance in check (I do get the occasional "free"day but those come around less than once a week). Yea me but my clothes still aren't loose. Goddammit.

I really need to twist up my courage and weigh in when I'm at the Y later today. I'm so afraid that, despite all my effort, I've not lost a pound. A variation of my old carny call (you can't win if you don't play) is echoing in my head – you can't feel encouraged if you don't weigh!