Well, I had to change labs. For those of you not in science PhD programs, that is a big, hairy deal. Basically? I lost 1-2 years off of my project.
In the end, though, it's a good thing. When I thought about spending another 2 years in that lab? I had panic attacks. I was scared and anxious every day. I was constantly (justifiably) scared of getting yelled at and called names. I had gastritis. My hair was starting to fall out. I couldn't have a conversation without getting defensive. Things were broken beyond repair.
There's so much more, but institutional policies, bla bla, plus, at this point, I just want to move on. I'm not afraid anymore and I want to keep it that way.
Since leaving? My stomach pains have all but disappeared. My hair has grown inches (in just 3 weeks!). My nails are suddenly so healthy I have to cut them every few days just so I can type without being annoyed. My relationship with my husband has improved dramatically, and I once again feel like, uh, gratifying him on a regular basis.
Life is good.
Let's get physical
So I am, like everyone and their brother, trying to lose weight. Not a lot, but started out slightly overweight and I'd like to get a little closer to the middle range of "normal" (according to the docs) before LB and I start trying to conceive (which, at this point, I have no idea when that's going to happen). I've been doing well, in bursts...10lbs gone since April! 10 more to go. Mostly it's a matter of developing healthy habits - eating well, drinking enough water, and exercising, none of which I was doing at the onset.
As a part of this, I've been going to aqua aerobics. It is awesome. It's me and like fifteen sexagenarians. So the other day, we are, as usual, dancin around to popular songs put to an aerobics beat, when the next song comes on. Dust In The Wind by Kansas. To a club beat. NNNN-TSSS NNNN-TSSS DUUUUUUUUUUST IN THE WIIIIIIIIIND NNNN-TSSS NNNN-TSSS NNNN-TSSS NNNN-TSSS And then I died a little inside.
When I finish my class, I head back to the locker room and take a shower. It just so happens that every Tuesday evening at 6:30, the gym gives tours to prospective new members. They pass through the locker rooms generally just after my post-aerobics shower, when I am changing back into my clothes, meaning they are often treated to me in gratuitous amounts of undress. That is how it came to pass that part of my gym routine every Tuesday evening is to flash my bare ass at random (innocent?) bystanders. I may not possess the sense of modesty to cover up, but hey, at least I'm polite enough to turn so they get booty instead of bush.
Celebrity reality shows just wouldn't be the same without Danny Bonaduce.
I can't eat Fun'yns because they remind me of bunions and I'm convinced they'll taste like feet.
Getting out of a wet swimsuit is much more unpleasant than putting on a dry swimsuit.
Do all dogs think dead, rotten bird is THE scent that will drive ALL the ladies wild, or is it just mine?
I can't decide what is a worse wake-up call: Dog breath in my face or cat pouncing on my boob.
I like the word thesaurus. It engenders an image of a giant T-rex with a big ole book for its head rampaging through the jungle.
This video had me tearing up at work...and I'm not a crier!