A totally weird guilt trip.

I am no stranger to the feeling of guilt. Whether it be forgetting to accomplish something at work or inadvertently slighting someone, I feel like guilt has a tendency to take over my brain. (Well, sometimes I think the guilt comes from paranoia, but that is another post for another time. You're not mad at me, readers, are you? PLEASE? I have blogged like THREE days in a row. Love me. Thanks.)

Lately, I have been feeling guilty for a completely out-of-character reason: working out. Obviously, I am getting married soon and therefore have the accompanying "dress fitting" appointments. When I went for my first fitting, I was surprised. While I did purchase my dress several sizes too big for my body (hello, sample sale!), it was even bigger than I had remembered. I was thrilled. My gym efforts and "sometimes" wedding diet were paying off. Woot!

Well, fast forward to about two weeks later when I showed up for my second fitting. Turns out, my gym efforts were STILL paying off. Too well. She had to take in my dress another few inches. Sigh. I should be thrilled. I am getting results. But she yelled at me. This is how the conversation went.

Seamstress: "You exercise. You lose too many inches."
F.A.: "Well, I like to exercise. It makes me feel good."

STARE DOWN.

SS: "You don't exercise before you buy dress, do you?"

GUILTY SILENCE.

F.A.: "No, not really."

SIGH.

SS: "STOP exercising. It's hard to do this job. STOP IT."

The next day, I went to the gym. Ooops.

I haven't been going as often. I don't want to give her my OTHER leg as payment for having to take it in yet again. However, I feel it would be far more tragic to go in for my fitting, having ceased all exercise, and be TOO BIG for my wedding gown.

Sadly, the more I go work out, the more I want to work out. I do feel better. The results are very encouraging. I don't feel as guilty binging on the SPRINGY Oreos that Faux Trixie and Amie brought over to my house SOLELY to ruin my wedding diet. I actually am able to wake up at 5:15 a.m. and get myself over to the gym. In fact, the instances where I totally snap at P.I.C. for his very existence because he woke me up for the gym are fewer and farther between.

Even better, is that I have found that my gym has Bravo on its cardio machines. That means when I go to workout, I can get my fill of reality TV that I don't get at home. (I haven't had cable in my home for over three years.) And that? I can't argue with that.

So I guess I will deal with the guilt. Skinny bride PLUS the Real Housewives? That is a guilt trip I will continue to ride.

Stay tuned for a report on the wrath of my seamstress.