And it's not because I don't love my job. I do - more than I ever dreamed I would. But this summer was soooooo not the summer I had hoped for, and for that I'm kind of feeling more deflated rather rejuvenated about the upcoming school year. Let's just say I am definitely not ready to give up these lazy days for early mornings and long nights just yet.
This vacation has been like no other. I'm having a great time going to the beach - it is my ultimate happy place after all - but it's been an entirely different "vacation" experience than what I am used to. My love of eating out, especially coastal cuisine, is legendary. I absolutely get off on visiting my favorite restaurants in both Bethany and Rehoboth, and savor the dining experiences that I only get to enjoy but once a year. It is as much of a joyful vacation aspect as is the beach - and it completes the experience of being away and enjoying life to the fullest.
We went out to eat exactly one time during our entire vacation and I was only able to eat about 4 - 5 bites of my dinner. At 5 weeks out from surgery by body is simply unable to tolerate many different things at this juncture. While the salmon was a stretch, the beluga lentils and brussel sprouts were a definite NOPE. Overall, my not best dining experience to date.
Not to mention the torture of hearing the waiter describe the new cocktails they had to offer. I almost shed a tear. I shit you not. Honestly, it's the first time I think I viewed this surgery as being a burden on my life rather than a blessing. I've begun to struggle with wondering is it better to be fat and happy than losing weight and being totally bummed out that you can't eat? I think I know the (correct) answer but right now it's really fucking difficult to see the forest from the trees.
Walking downtown was another test last night. Smells EVERYWHERE. I couldn't escape them. It wasn't fun and it reminded me of how I just used to eat with abandon and not care. I would have definitely had my fair share of Fisher's popcorn and ice cream last night, to the point of probably feeling sick. Last night I had two licks of Josh's ice cream cone and that was it. I could have eaten more (it went down pretty smoothly with zero problems), but I stopped. I don't need to head down that slippery slope only 5 and 1/2 weeks in. Hells to the no.
I feel like this bitch-fest simply comes back to one thing. This is NOT an easy road I've chosen. But I HAVE chosen it and I have to live with my decision. If I sound like a whiny shit right now, I'm sorry. I don't mean to. There's just so many things that are new to me, and frankly a bit hard to swallow (no pun intended) at the moment. I do know that it will get better and my body will begin to adapt to this new way of life and I will eventually be able to eat more substantial foods than cottage cheese and deli meat roll ups, but for now, this is my reality and I have to accept it. There is no alternative. There is no going back. You can't "undo" this surgery. What I really need to do is "undo" my brain and forget the past ways of life (and vacation) and embrace the new chapter I'm in the process of writing. It may not be the most exciting chapter but I have a feeling that will change.