It’s a lovely Sunday night in Des Moines. Just unwinding from a fun filled weekend back
home with my family. Unpacking my bags
and repacking them for a business trip the next few days. There will definitely be challenges ahead
since that will make one full week out of my routine of workouts and packing my
own food every day. Not to mention last
week was the Iowa State Fair. Whoa is
me. Monday I enjoyed some cheese curds
and half a gyro. Tuesday I managed to
spend the afternoon at the fair without eating any fair food. We are chalking that up as a total win. The good thing about wondering around the
fair and doing scavenger hunts for work, is that I got lots and lots of
steps. I know the next few days will
entail lots of eating out and catered food but all I can do is make the best
food choices possible while I’m gone and try to hit the gym at the hotel a few
times or explore the city by foot.
As I have already disclosed on here I’m currently going
through a divorce. No, please don’t say
you’re sorry. I’m not. Nothing could be closer to the best thing for
me. Sometimes, no matter how much you
may love a person, you have to wake up and realize that they are quicksand. I finally pulled myself out and have found
peace and joy. To commemorate the
impending divorce, I decided to get a tattoo.
I know, really, Lyndee? The girl
that thought tattoos were “so gross” just inked her 4th one. I put it on my arm so that I could read it
every day. It’s a message that has rang
true for me not only through the divorce, but also with my weight loss, work, writing...really any goal I’ve set for myself. It’s
an infinite symbol that says “she believed she could…so she did”. Because we all know that I’m a very big fan
of believing anything is possible and if you work hard and do the right thing,
good will come your way. So this is my
forever mantra that will be with me until I’m no longer. I really love it. And my super supportive and awesome BFF got a
matching one as well. Which makes it
even more special.
Today I had a near panic attack at the mall. I had to go buy bras. I dread shopping like no one’s business. But my friends convinced me that I had to go
get some new bras and they had to be quality.
As any woman knows, the "girls" are often the first to go when it comes to
weight loss. It’s not TMI, it’s just the
facts. So anyway, Molly pushes me
towards that overly pink store the world refers to as Victoria’s Secret. I’ve never been able to buy anything in this
store. Ever. To me this is a skinny person store and the
sales ladies kind of freak me out. But that’s
an entirely different blog post all together.
Anyway, I go to Victoria’s…by myself…and the first worker does what I expected
and kind of gives me the “what is she doing in here” look as if to say, she
must be buying perfume and not undergarments.
I actually turned to leave when a different sales lady blocked my exit
with big brown excited eyes. “Hey,
sweetie, how can I help you today?” Oh
crap. I’m cornered like a honey
badger. I debate pushing the half-naked
mannequin on top of her and jolting for the door but instead I suck it up and
tell her I need to get measured for a bra.
She takes me back, measures, runs away and before I know it, she is
shooting my size bras over the dressing room door like a crazy person. Can we
say sensory overload? I try on the first
one and I have to admit, it’s nice. In
fact, it’s awesome. Then I look at the
price tag and nearly faint. Yeah, I’m
cheap. I try what seemed like a dozen different
styles, make my selection and exit the dressing room. I successfully survived my first shopping
experience at Victoria’s Secret. Today
is a total victory.
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