I would be embarrassed to explain how I managed to get this picture up here for you, but this is the plan for the new tattoo:
I'm thinking that I will put it on the back of my left leg, lower calf. One of my tattoo guidelines is that they have to be where I can see them. I don't understand why people put tattoos on their backs, although clearly, many people do, including both of my children. But part of the attraction for me is that I want to see and enjoy them. I'm also a big believer that women should never get tattoos on body parts that are not going to remain in the same place all of their lives. I've got a wrist and an ankle so far. Anywhere on the belly is obviously and laughably out, and anyway, I don't want to just see the tattoo, it's words, and I want them to be readable to me. Why would I get words tattooed and only be able to see them in a mirror, where they're backwards?
I lost another pound this week, so I'm averaging a pound a week, which is just fine with me. A half pound would be fine (although of course, a pound is better.) It's doing all the work and showing no progress that's frustrating.
I finally went upstairs this morning and worked on getting that room ready for the work that's about to be done to it. Let me tell you, I am not happy. When my kids were little, I would clean their rooms once a year, preferably when they were away at camp, because if I did it when they were home I would have been a furious and insane mother for days. Cleaning their rooms always made me angry, and today was no exception, although it wasn't as bad as it used to be. All I did today was gather up everything that was loose and put it in bins or boxes so that the workers can move them. What makes me angry is the carelessness of what they leave lying around on the floor. As always, I found scads of pennies, just strewn around. WTF? I found a pair of pants with the tags on that was supposed to be returned in November. I found a lunchbag with, thank god, no food in it, but three icepaks, thawed, of course. And clothes, piles of clothes. I don't know what's R's and what's K's at this point, although I suspect a bunch of it is R's and K will be the one to end up sorting through all of it to find her own stuff when she gets home. I hope the workers can get around all this stuff on Wednesday. They've got to take up the carpet underneath it all and get rid of it.
I'm so tired all of a sudden. Guess I'll have to take a nap whether I want to or not.
