“And I’m on tonight
You know my hips don’t lie
And I’m starting to feel it’s right…”
-Shakira

I was kind of waiting until the end of the day to see if the feeling I woke up with today lingered throughout the day or if it was just early morning delusion clouding my thoughts, but I think it’s safe to say now: I think my stupid thyroid stuff is finally working. Maybe it’s not, maybe all I needed was a bit of Absolut, who knows, though if it’s the vodka I’d like the pharmaceutical companies to intervene somehow and get my insurance to cover it.

Last night before bed, I was brushing my teeth in front of the bathroom sink. I was hanging out in my tank top and underpants, and still somewhat feeling-good from my drinks earlier on. My husband looked me up and down (he does that a lot), and said, “You know what? I think you’re getting smaller…” And then I proceeded to take a huge sip of water from the cup we keep on the counter and spit it on him. Yeah, I’m so hot. Since he had just gotten home from his softball game, he actually said, “Hey! That felt pretty good!” So, well, I did it again. Then I choked on the water.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

But, later, I was checking myself out (Oh, you know you do it too) and I realized that yeah, I think this is starting to maybe look like my body again. I woke up this morning and put my hand on my stomach and it didn’t feel mushy – no, it looked and felt like my stomach circa last fall (hell, at this rate, CC, you may get that picture after all!).

I’m not feeling quite as tired, nor am I feeling as bitchy. I can see the muscle tone in my arms again. I know that the physical shouldn’t matter quite this much, but I have to just accept that to me, it does. It matters. It will probably always matter. When I hit my later years and my body just turns to mush and I get that gross flappy underarm stuff (you know, the part that keeps waving after you stop?), I may very well go nuts. For now, I feel like I’m finally feeling a smidge better. Yay.