Sunny Saturday

It was 37 degrees when I walked Murphy this morning around 6. Right now it's at least 65. On Thursday it was pushing 80. There is no "winter wardrobe" and "summer wardrobe" in Florida. We need warm weather clothes all year round, with just enough woolly stuff for the abrupt temperature shifts. It's not unusual to start the day freezing and end it in a t-shirt and bare feet. That's how it was today. Abrupt changes are the norm.

This is not just a meteorological musing - it ties to everything I've been thinking about what I'm doing with myself these days. My knitting - I need to focus on cotton tanks. A shawl or two. A couple of wool cardigans, like the top-down in progress, is enough. I do not travel out of state enough during cold months to justify the investment of time in wooly knitting.

And the warm days and blooming flowers - which never really went away - are just a reminder that summer will be here soon. Beach weather starts around April. Other than eating in a beachside restaurant on a business trip, I have not been to the beach to get in the water in, God, five years. The Atlantic Ocean is about an hour away. Surreal, isn't it? And I'm a triple water sign - Cancer Sun, Scorpio Moon, Pisces Rising - how have I LIVED with no beach time for five years? I used to take a mental health day after any major event, like a trial, and go to Cocoa Beach all by myself, with a book and a cooler of Diet Coke and a bottle of Bullfrog sunblock, and just regroup and recharge. How have I lived without the beach? This is insane. This year I am back on the beach and I'm going to be confident in how I look in a bathing suit. I'm not trying to look 20, but I wouldn't mind being the hottest 40something on the beach.

Today was a good start - a 90 minute workout, an hour of the treadmill and bike, 30 of weights. Tomorrow I'll do cardio only. I'm going to be a daily gym rat if I can swing it, focusing mostly on burning fat. Hell, if Oprah can lose as much weight as she did and look as gorgeous as she does at 50, I'm pretty sure I can lose 20 pounds and get my formerly fine ass back. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

The shopping is done, most of the laundry is done, the house is cleaner (I have cats, it will never be totally clean) the pond pump is pumping, the grill is clean and ready to fire up to grill chicken and veggies. And an evening of chugging around the top-down cardigan while watching movies still beckons, until I fall asleep insanely early.

Happy hour was fun, though I got into it a bit with the Boss on the subject of job change. He's backpedaling, because it will be so "hard." He is of the opinion that he has more "overhead" to consider than I do. This sends me right through the fucking roof. I am not suggesting either one of us should just quit in a snit and figure it out from there. I'm not even saying quitting will be absolutely necessary - who knows, things could change. I'm just not going to count on that and I think it's time to start looking at other options. The idea that my life and situation is somehow less than his just pissed me off beyond description. I'm a widow in debt up to my ass, trying to hold onto the few assets I was left after my husband died way too young and way too slowly, and trying to regroup and restart my life and plan for my own retirement (hah) someday. He thinks because he has a wife (who works) and one kid and a big mortgage, his burden is somehow Much Heavier (and more manly, I suppose) than mine. Fuck you, pal. Proportionately, my overhead is a hell of a lot heavier, riskier and more critical than his. You know, it's almost 24 hours since he stuck his foot in his mouth (after a couple of glasses of wine) and I am STILL annoyed. He apologized but he just doesn't GET it, and it really bothers me that he sees a woman's financial future as more expendable than a man's, or whatever it is he thinks.

Anyway - I"m going to walk the dog and fire up the grill and spend a nice evening with a top-down cardigan and a movie. The future will be what it will be. At least I'll face it with a firm ass.