Whooooo-hoo! What a fantastic night I had last night! According to the Weight Watcher's scale, I lost almost three and a half pounds last week! (Okay, about a pound of that is probably due to the fact that I was wearing lighter clothes than usual - but at least two of it is real loss!) That's a grand total of twenty-three pounds lost so far! I could actually get my 25-pound bookmark next week! And then after the meeting, I got to my car, opened the door, and confronted a bunch of balloons in the driver's seat! Wow. My sweetie is just the greatest, isn't he?
But wait! The balloons are tied to... What is this? A small plastic flowerpot with a cover on it? The sun was mostly down, and the balloons blocking the car's light... Move them a bit, and... Oh, wow! A Venus Fly Trap plant! Cool! (Yeah, I know. It doesn't sound very romantic to you. But Matt know what I like, and something just a little bit strange, like a bug-eating plant, is right up my alley!) I moved the plant and the balloons to the passenger's seat, and got ready to head home and give Matt a huge hug.
Then I realized that there was a note attached to the plant. So I opened it, expecting the usual sort of gift-note: "Just wanted to say I love you," - that sort of thing. But this note said, "Pop the red balloon last." (There are several white balloons and one red one.) I looked carefully at the balloons, and sure enough, it looked like there are notes inside them. So I pulled out my Swiss Army knife and try to pop a white balloon. It didn't pop. (Should I mention that my Swiss Army knife is about fifteen years old badly needs to be replaced?) I tried again, and still no pop.
Then I remembered: Two weeks ago, Matt also put notes inside balloons for me. And when I popped those, pieces of balloon and the note flew all over the place. If I popped these balloons in my car, in the dark, I would never find the notes. So I decided to take them home and open them inside. I wound up having to weight the balloons down with my lunchbox so I can see where I'm going. But I got home.
When I walked through the door with the balloons, Matt looked crushed. "You didn't read the note!" he wailed. I realize that behind him, he had completely cleaned off our flat filing cabinet of a dining-room table, and there were lit candles, and another red balloon tied to my chair... I protested that I had read the note, but been unable to pop the balloons. So he found me a knife, and I popped them right then and there. Each of the white balloons contained a small love note. The final red balloon urged me to hurry home for a candlelit dinner, and promised to take me to the movies on Thursday. How cool can you get?
Dinner was wonderful, and reminded me why I want to insist that we actually sit down for dinner at our new house. (It isn't going to happen at our current apartment, because that table is the only place we can put our bills and mail and assorted crap. When we move, I'm going to buy an actual desk for that stuff, so I'll be able to enforce keeping the dining-room table cleared.) For dessert, Matt had taken one of my pre-sorted, obsessive little packets of Jelly Bellys, and arranged them into the shape of a heart.
I have the greatest husband in the world.
Oh, and I finally decided how I was going to reward myself for weight-loss milestones. It's so obvious, I don't know why I didn't think of it before: I'll take a day off from work. The Friday after a milestone (or as close as I can manage, project permitting) I'll take off and give myself a three-day weekend. Sleep late. Lounge around the house. Go shopping. Whatever. And I've got a ton of leave saved up. Sounds good to me! Now I'm trying to decide what the milestones will be. I was originally thinking every fifteen pounds, but Matt thought every ten would be good. I have some time to decide; my next milestone will be at 30 pounds, either way.
Oh, an' I'll be wishin' ye a Happy St. Paddy's Day, don'cha know...
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