Our insurance was great and dealt with everything. I was pleased with the way they handled it. We were only out $250 for repairs, insurance picked up the rest (which included a displaced headlight and rearranging the inside of the fender)
After dinner we went to Coney's Frozen Custard to try their new chocolate raspberry creme flavor. Andy chose brownies to mix in. It was really good. I was still sad, but chocolate makes almost anything better.
Then I had Andy drop me off at primary presidency meeting. I told them about the accident, and just wanted the spirit to come and quiet my soul. I was just about "there" during a very good object lesson. The object lesson was about fitting our calling into our daily lives. We wrote responsibilities on clear decorative stones (Grace, Andy, cook, clean, etc), and placed them in a large baby food jar. After that you add colored pebbles that represent life's little surprises (car accidents, unforseen bills, etc). Then we had this larger rock, which represented our church callings, that we also had to fit in. It didn't fit in on top. So we dumped our stuff out, put the rock in first, and then put the rest of it back in the jar. To make it count, you had to close the lid on the jar. Mine fit fine. Object lesson achieved: put your calling first. One of the counselors was struggling to get all of hers in, so I offered to help. I was just starting to close the lid when KABOOSH! The jar 'sploded and sliced my hands. I got a pretty deep gash in the crook of my left thumb, and a bad cut across the pad of my other. Other parts of my hands and fingers were also banged up. One of the counselors called my hubby to tell him the news. All I heard on the other end was "No, we're not kidding". Like how accident prone can this woman be in one day?! I was taken home where hubby rushed me to urgent care. The counselor who took me home stayed at our place since Grace was already in bed. I got Frankenstein stitches in my life hand (which, and I know this is dumb, are a blow to my self image. I feel ugly whenever I look at them), and 2 or 3 stitches in the pad of my other thumb. It was not fun.
Then the next day my mom called to tell me she has to euthanize our amazing dog. They found a tumor the size of a football and operating would only give her two or three months of extra life. So now not only was I physically broken, but heart broken too. Between those two, I started to have shock symptoms (nausea, chills, kind of out of it) and crashed on the couch the rest of the night. Slept soundly for 4 hours, then went to bed and slept more.
One thing about really bad things is that they only seem to come in threes. Friday morning I woke up feeling pretty glum and did my weekly weigh in. I came in at 199.8. I had officially left Twoterville and entered Onederland. I smiled and thought "Alright." It was like Mr. Sun was peeking his little head out of the clouds for a minute. The weekend got better with many top three finishes in the classes at the model horse show I went to, and I had good company driving there with two fellow friends/hobbiests.
Tuesday night we went shopping and hubby let me get two new pairs of shorts and a new shirt. I've been feeling like a house in my shirts that no longer fit, and my size 16 shorts were starting to slide around a little bit. Despite my hands killing me as I tried to do the button, I now fit comfortably into a size 14! I do not recall ever being a size 14 as a teenager or adult. I remember being in 8th grade swim class. In the locker room, I could hear the girls wish they were more filled out in certain places like I was, while I desperately wished my size 16 pants were size 10-12 like a normal 14 year old.
I know vanity sizing has gotten worse in the last decade, and my size 14s are probably really 16s (or would have been 10 years ago), I'll take em!
This morning I weighed in at 198.2-- .2 away from 50 lost. The only number in my head now is 185... no longer obese.
