I had an appointment with my surgeon and dietitian today.
I’ve scheduled my surgery for January 9th.
So far I’ve lost 22.2 lbs since September 9th.
I’m scared and excited.
I had an appointment with my surgeon and dietitian today.
I’ve scheduled my surgery for January 9th.
So far I’ve lost 22.2 lbs since September 9th.
I’m scared and excited.
I’m going to admit something to you, the reader, the small group of people who happen upon my blog every once in a while.
I’ve decided to have gastric bypass surgery.
It’s weird.
I’ve only told a handful of people.
Mostly because I’m ashamed.
I am ashamed for needing and wanting this surgery.
It’s a little fucked, I know. I’m sure my psychologist would say I was being unkind to myself.
I’m not happy with my body and nothing I do seems to work. I figured this would be the drastic kick in the butt I need.
I mean, I’m nothing if not dramatic.
But it’s a whole process before they let you have surgery. Appointment after appointment and a complete lifestyle change, otherwise this isn’t going to work.
I’ve started to lose weight in preparation for the surgery to help me lose more weight.
The future seems bright.
My office had an active shooter seminar last week. We sat in our training room listening to a man from the department of homeland security tell about ways to react and protect yourself during an active threat situation.
Be it a shooter, a car attack, natural disaster, etc.
Run, hide, fight.
Not in that order but however the need may arise.
This is the reality of our lives.
We are somehow in danger no matter if we are alone or in a big group.
If we are at work, at school, at church, at the movies, shopping enjoying a concert, dancing, we could be attacked. Why?
Because someone had a grievance.
With you?
Maybe, maybe not.
With someone like you. With someone you know with the idea of someone, with everyone and no one. They are upset and therefore you are in danger.
This morning I drove to work and traffic was heavier than it is at the hour I usually drive. I texted my boss telling her I’d be there soon, I was going to teach a class about the department we manage.
When I arrived the area surrounding my office building was swarming with police cars. There was no parking, a garage had been shut down and we were all being directed to the big seven-story garage.
There’d been a stabbing earlier in the morning. An argument between two men led to one of them being so aggravated he stabbed the other multiple times leaving him in critical condition.
I have grown up in chicago, a city infamous for violence and death, I’ve grown up watching shooting after mass shooting happen across the country and the shock I should’ve felt was brief and replaced with a feeling of inconvenience and that scared me.
What is happening around us?
What is happening to me?
Later I thought about this man, as I recounted the tale and the gravity of it hit me.
We are not safe.
I don’t mean that. Well, I don’t know anymore. I try to believe that I am usually safe, but I don’t think anyone who’s been murdered woke up thinking that they were going to die. They woke up believing like most of us do that they’d go through their day like normal, safe and sound.
All I can think, as I put on my shoes to go walk my dog tonight is that I will trust in the Lord to keep me safe and I will continue to be mindful of my surroundings because I really don’t know what else I can do.

I am tired.
Work was eternal. I really get to leave on time.
Tomorrow I teach my department class so I should be asleep in preparation. I need to be good.
I don’t care.
My co-dance leader called me to tell me she went over my head to check if the song I’d chosen and started to choreograph was ok. Deemed it was not and then chose a different one for the special event we’re having on September 16th.
I have decided to retire before friday because I’m over it.
Do what you want, I don’t care.
One of the moms is upset because her daughter isn’t included in this dance, she will be missing several practices, she texted us a long dramatic text and I get it. I understand she’s upset. But I can’t deal with this at nine o’clock the night before an early morning class.
We both crafted long diplomatic text messages and called it a night.
I need a break from everyone.
I joined the dance ministry when I was 12 years old.
I’m now 32.
I’ve been active for 20 years and I’m tired.
I’m tired of trying to push these girls. I’m tired of so many rehearsals.
And I’m just physically tired.
I’ve done this through cancer treatments, through knee surgery and physical therapy, and I’m done.
I have one last special and I’m officially done.
September 16th.
I cannot wait.