While we were cleaning last night, she was going to give away her checkerboard vans. I made sure to recover the laces. The laces were originally white but I made sure to sharpie them so they would also be checkerboard. I don't know why but I felt the laces HAD to be checkerboard. For months we could never find a proper time to meet up so I always had this shoelace lying about the house. Then, on the days we would meet up, I would forget to bring the lace. It was a funny ordeal and I wanted to hold onto them for a future art project. Her family will be helping out today to oversee the movers and help with unpacking and any last minute packing. If we did,hypothetically, see the movie last night, there would be no chance she would be packed in time, even with extra help.
I will not be helping today for she has help now. I need to catch up on some chores and also exercise. Part of the whole, "not hating my body," thing is contingent on getting it to where I want it to be. Exercise also helps make the brain feel good. Its one of those necessary life things like eating, showering, watching love island and getting pissed off that they eliminated Austin but kept Taylor.
I made a big choice today and I will be following through with it on 09/27/25. Until then I will be working to keep my body and mind in shape for this undertaking. I must do this alone.
I finally finished, "Fine, a Comic About Gender," by Rhea Ewing. I enjoyed it far more than I did that other book. I even made sure to look up their IG to personally thank them. Am I the only person that does that? Anyhoo, I did enjoy the book overall. The book consists of several interviews on various types of people and occasional self-reflections from the author's lived experience. Shocking isn't the right word, but its close to describe one of the more memorable moments. The author was male presenting but by circumstance had to use the woman's room. An older woman open's the door and as the author is washing their hands, the woman asks, "are you in the right restroom?" To which the author, realizing their male presenting form, adjusts themselves to look more intimidating and scary before responding, "I don't know, am I?" The author was kind of happy for a moment but felt an immediate sense of shame over abusing this, is privilege the right word? Maybe. But I found that interesting. I also need to add the old lady was smaller and visually scared, hence the shame.
I see my therapist on the 13th. Okay. If I can lose a substantial amount of weight in August, I think I can finally stop seeing her in September, October at the latest.