Wimbledon It Ain't

Do you know why we wear white to play tennis? Well, contrary to the opinion of a friend of mine that it serves to reinforce the racism and elitism of the sport (I know, I know), tennis clothing is traditionally white because it shows less sweat. Purple v-neck double layer shirts, for example, show more sweat. Well, I think they do anyway.

I cried when Federer won yesterday. I don't know if that is noteworthy at this point since I have cried every day this week (more on that later). I cannot imagine the feeling of winning something like that. Much less winning to tie a record. Nor can I imagine losing. When Federer lost it, I joined him.

Therapy is working. While I am conflicted about focusing on the negative for a whole hour each week, I suspect that my subconscious dwells there more than I like to admit so might as well tackle the underground business. What it does though, at least until the healing starts, is expose all the raw feelings that I manage to tamp down with food. It's a floody, rough slog. (Can slog be a noun? Yeah? If not, I don't know what to say. It sure feels like a slog...)

Onwards and upwards. Onwards and downwards.

I am going back on the no food that isn't food plan today. I can tell my body is changing and I now enjoy shopping at the upper limits of Ann Taylor clothing which is an utter thrill for me. Now I want that scale to cooperate. Two hours of tennis? Take that you poundy little bastards!