I got my cap and gown today via UPS. Crap! The gown is messed up. One of the sleeves is goofy. I called the book store and they said they'd have another for me there the day of the commencement, but dang it. That means it will probably be all wrinkly. This is starting to make be even more scared of the whole thing.
I can just picture it now: I trip and fall like a load of fatand40 bricks, ala Carrie Bradshaw. Some gay guy will scream: "She's academic road kill," as I slip my 1" heeled shoe back on my fat foot.
I also received an email today about the this whole hulla baloo they are to do with us Ph.Ders. There is this hood thing they stick on me, or my advisor actually has to do. So, that means I can't wear my hair down. Plus, I realized I need to wear a button down shirt because they have to hook it on a button. Very weird to have this done by your advisor in front of a zillion strangers. I mean. I have only even said this guy's first name out lowd, like, once. Now he's going to "dress" me in public. Cripes.
Luckily, I can still fit my fat a** into the gray skirt I plan to wear, but of course, the whole button down thing has thrown a wrench into my sweater set plans. I think I've one shirt I can wear that will work, a white button down with a Peter Pan collar, too young, but we'll see if I can swing by Sears this week (yes I know - Christmas crowds!).
Okay onto the diet issues. I have totally lost my Mojo, as I'm sure you noticed. I'm busy as hell with work. I'm blogging my brains out lately, but the money is good so....
On an up note, we walked our dogs last night, and it felt good to get out and get a little exercise. It was a cool night for Florida, in the high 60s, and we walked around the neighborhood checking out the holiday lights.
This energized me and this morning I managed to do one of my walking dvds, the 2mile. Not the 3, but hey, I managed to pry my fingers off the key board and sweat for a change.
Since losing my grip at Thanksgiving, I'm starting all over again. I even broke down and bought some pants, which C. would have a cow about, but luckily, she's not on the net and can't read this...he he. Otherwise, she'd give me that "Five more pounds and you can't wear these any more. Don't buy them."
Easy for Miss Size 6 to say. Plus it's getting cold now so my wardrobe is shrinking. At least something is!