take me to the finish line.

I feel blah.

I thought January would be an inspiring month, between it being a new year and my upcoming visit with my neurologist. Something tells me I'm not going off Diamox anytime soon.

Last Monday I sensed a cold coming on, a few symptoms here and there but nothing too troublesome. On Wednesday, it was a full blown cold. My boyfriend's recent bout with bronchitis/pneumonia/death/whatever it was had me spooked and I decided to take it easy on my immune system.

A happy and unexpected series of events gave me the day off from work on Thursday which I spent napping and making soup. That's where my motivation died.

I think the last time I worked out was Tuesday, maybe even Wednesday? I've been indulging in all the wonderful food my fridge has to offer and taking every opportunity to couch-nap in the name of good health. I have gotten my money's worth out of this month's Netflix subscription price (and probably the three following months, too).

I haven't weighed myself, mostly because my BMs have been irregular and I ate half a pan of homemade rice krispie treats this weekend. Also, I don't like having this blah feeling and then attaching a number to it. Like all of a sudden, "blah" is defined by a number, which is silly because it doesn't erase all the good work I've done over the last few months.


I bought new clothes this weekend. I didn't really need them, per se, but I could use a boost in morale this week. Plus there was a sale, I just couldn't say no.