Truth Is...

The truth is, I am not feeling very inspired to do much lately. Even writing here is hard because I just feel as if I have nothing to say and why should I inflict myself upon people by writing something that isn't worth reading?

The truth is, I have been feeling so uncreative lately that just walking through a craft store yesterday made me angry because I looked at all the stuff and thought, "Ugh!"

The truth is, I love working out. AFTER I have worked out. Because the truth is, I don't like it at all beforehand.

The truth is, I've been working out for almost a month now and I'm not seeing much of a difference. Oh, a pound here or there and a few inches, but the truth is, as hard as I've been working, I feel like I should see a bigger difference than I am.

The truth is, I'm tracking every damn calorie that goes in my mouth.

The truth is, I really like the website that I'm using to do it. (www.myfitnesspal.com)

The truth is, it's a lot harder to eat back all my exercise calories in a healthy way.

The truth is, what I really want to do, is cram about 8 Oreos in my mouth and be done with it.

The truth is, I feel like all I do these days is work out, do laundry, and clean up after slovenly children.

The truth is, I haven't cleaned out my garden yet and I'm going to need to do it soon.

The truth is, Little League has started and while I enjoy watching the games, I don't enjoy watching practice.

The truth is, that when my beloved is out of town and can't take Sean to practice, I have to. And the truth is, I sit in the van, all anti-social like, and read while practice is going on.

The truth is, I love it.

The truth is, I still help Mary get dressed in the mornings. She's seven and has been quite capable of dressing herself for years.

The truth is, she's a little lazy about waking on time and I'm a bit of a control freak and don't trust her fashion choices. Although considering most of her wardrobe consists of jeans and t-shirts, I'm not really sure how she can mess things up.

The truth is, I foresee my helping her dress herself until she's 40. And then she'll have to help me.

The truth is, the passenger side van door has been non-functioning for over a year.

The truth is, if my beloved had to drive the van everyday it would already be fixed.

The truth is, I am TIRED of asking my beloved to have it fixed and so I suffer along in martyred silence.

Okay, the truth is, I suffer along in martyred muttering under my breath.

The truth is, I need to paint the living room, but I'm so worn out after working out most days, that the idea of painting the living room makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and hum soothing songs to myself.

The truth is, I love watching Tilly stretch out in a sun patch and listening to her snore.

The truth is, I could really go for some of my mom's potato salad today. And trust me, I have enough calories left today that I could have plenty.

The truth is, I watched "War Horse" over the weekend with my beloved and James and had a big ol' ugly cry during a very climactic scene. Seriously. Bad. I just don't do that in movies. Patrick gave me a quizzical look and asked if I was going to be all right. I had to pull myself together before having a full blown McConnaughay fit.

The truth is, I love eating salads, I just don't enjoy making them.

The truth is, I don't drink Diet Coke anymore. (I know, right?!?!) I now drink so much water that I have to pee all the time. (You're welcome.)

The truth is, I'm sure that this is better for me, but sometimes I miss the ritual of my morning Diet Coke, even though I don't even crave them anymore.

The truth is, I have now started talking about bathroom habits, and that is just wrong on so many levels. So the truth is, I'm going to stop now and go cook some turkey bacon.

And the truth is, I'll want to eat seven slices, but after killing myself this morning at the Y, the truth is, I'll only eat one.

What are some of your truths? Feel free to share!