I wish it were Thursday. Thursday's the Hubband goes bowling, so I don't feel the pressure to make sure it looks like I've done something ~ Well, I do, but I have longer to do it.

It's a beautiful day and I haven't been outside yet. Just a little step out to the back porch. I was going to drive up to Pine Knob and see about upgrading my tickets for a couple of concerts, but I've got to go out that direction on Thursday, anyway. Besides, I just don't feel like it.

What do I feel like doing? Stamping. Been doing it all night and most of the morning. Making little Post-It Note holders to give away. Cute, practical and so, so easy.

I've gotten the creative spark going in the Boy as well. He's working on some sort of "project". I love his projects. They usually turn out to be something cool, if not easy to describe.

Mostly, I've been sitting around contemplating my life. The people in it. The way I feel about it. Standing on the crest of 39 has me wondering if I could/want to set a goal for myself over this next year.

Here's the thing: I worry too much about this weight thing. It's not just a body image issue ~ although it's that, too ~ but it's a health issue. I'm worried that I will turn around and be looking at a 60-year-old diabetic. Or go in for a routine checkup to find my heart's about to explode (like my Dad). Having taken this summer "vacation" from the gym has only proven the point that regular exercise does, indeed, make one feel tons better.

So, on Thursday, my 39th birthday, I've decided to make a goal for myself. I want to meet this goal by my 40th birthday the following year. That goal is to lose 100 pounds.

You can understand, I'm sure, my hesitance. Why would I think I can do this now, when I haven't been able to in the past? Did I suddenly gain the strength? Did I suddenly grow disdainful of ice cream and baked goods? Do I harbor ill will against carbohydrates where I didn't just yesterday?

Nope.

But I have seen my son picking up a lot of the bad habits I have been battling all my life. I have seen one of my best friends come to terms with a weight problem that has plauged her for 40 years. I have watched my formerly fit husband turn into someone who more closely resembles...me.

Truthfully, if I can't do this now, it's not going to get any easier later. And I am a strong woman. I should be able to do this. And if I can't, in a year, then I will know that I have to make changes to work with what I've got. A year is 52 weeks. If I lose weight at the healthy 2 lbs. per week rate, that would have me down 104 lbs. It would put me where I'm comfortable, can buy clothes that fit better and am healthy. It wouldn't put me where the insurance tables say I should weigh, but I don't care. It's about me.

I'm thinking. Resisting the idea, of course. Enjoying the Coke left over from our party. Eating chips and dip. Noshing on pizza. Only two more days to eat like a queen. (And gain another 15 lbs. to have to work off. HA!) Still, I think I want to do this.

We'll see. Maybe it's just the onset of my period talking.