Dearest Rachel –
It was light when I woke up this morning, which astonished me, since I’d retired for the night at what you would have remembered as a traditional weekday bedtime of a little after 10:30. Yes, I was in bed before the ball dropped in Times Square, let alone midnight here in the Central time zone. It really shouldn’t come as any surprise, not after yesterday’s letter; the day when the calendar turns over has become pretty meaningless to me, assuming it ever held much meaning to begin with.
But what did come as a surprise was the fact that I slept until nearly eight, despite having called it such an early night. By the time I opened my eyes, the sun, though still well hidden behind layers of clouds, was making its presence felt by way of a cold, white light that surrounded our bedroom to the point where it couldn’t be ignored. Well, maybe it’s just that much easier to stay asleep when the rest of the world is doing likewise, trying to recover from the excesses of the previous night. Then again, I can rarely hear such activities, outside of those within these four walls, as it is, so why should that external silence prolong my own slumber?
No matter, though; it was time to start the day – and, for what it’s worth, the year – beginning with a stop in the bathroom to check my weight. I had been hoping to write you this morning about how I’ve been able to “hold the line” throughout the entirety of the holiday season, despite that parody song we used to listen to about it being “the most fattening time of the year.” However, after stepping on the scale last night, and seeing it read 215.5 (backing over a line I hoped I wouldn’t be crossing – and hadn’t since mid-October. Granted, this was in the evening, when Jenn has mentioned one should never weigh oneself if one wants to measure one’s progress; I didn’t get on the scale a second time to verify it, and haven’t included it in my record-keeping), I didn’t think there would be much to pat myself on the back over. And while this morning’s 212.5 is a notable improvement from them – as well as a verification of Jenn’s recommendation – it’s still on the wrong side of the line I’m trying to stay across after some four months of dancing on either side of.
See, for all the noise I’ve made about ignoring the new year’s celebrations, I do have a few resolutions in mind for the year. They aren’t anything new or original, but at least they’re both measurable and doable (especially given past performance). For this year and the next, I want to be able to cross – and stay across – two more milestones in this weight loss journey. For 2025, that means the 200 and 190 marks, with 180 and 170 as a goal for 2026. I’d gotten across 230 and 220 this past year, and made it under 210 on a regular basis, but haven’t quite gotten to the point where that last one’s a permanent situation. Obviously, I have to figure out a way to make it last in order to drop further, but at least I know I can do it, since I’ve done it plenty of times before. I’ve also resolved (a little more informally, and for a longer term) to take at least one cruise a year going forward. Again, I’ve kept this up ever since the pandemic lifted in 2021 (assuming you count the fact that I at least got on a boat before being escorted off due to my illness), so this is just a matter of keeping up what I’ve already been doing… actually, I guess these both are. Again, at least this makes it reassuring in that I know I can do these things, since I’ve managed in previous years.
But today isn’t going to be much of a day for keeping those resolutions, since I’m barely on schedule to get to the folks’ by ten even without hitting the gym. Which is kind of ironic, since the only area in the strip mall that has any cars in it at all as I drive by is that section in front of the gym. Everywhere else is essentially taking a sabbath, even the local drug store; I hope everybody bought their hangover remedies beforehand, because it looks like they’ll be out of luck if they go hunting for anything now.
On the other hand, I can hear the crunch of salt or sand under my tires as I make my way to the folks’ this morning. Yes, there are a few flakes of snow (and some of it is even sticking, especially on our backyard deck), but it’s nothing to write you about, other than to comment upon the fact that someone made a point to prepare the roads before the ball (let alone the snow itself) began to drop. Give credit to whoever was assigned to this job for getting it done before it was needed – unlike anyone having to restock their medicine cabinet for aspirin. Maybe he wanted to get it done before he could head home and party until he needed aspirin.
At the same time, as I make my way down these otherwise empty streets, I wonder what I’ll be doing for the rest of the day. As with yesterday, I’m light on deadlines, and don’t have much to take care of. And will I be able to get anything for us for dinner, if everything stays closed for the holiday? I don’t recall having to deal with this before; maybe we always had leftovers in the past (you would always make that clam dip for watching the ball drop, but that wasn’t a thing this year, and it’s not as if Daniel would eat that, anyway), but we don’t have much to work with this year. On the other hand, maybe that’s a good thing; something to push me back over the line, so I can start to make my way to the next one.
In either case, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 