I survived

Barely.  Actually, I had a pretty good Christmas day, all things considered.  Somehow I was so busy talking to friends, I never even had time to catch up on movies or Doctor Who.  And suddenly it was time to leave for my family dinner.  I had made bargains all day with myself about going.  Just stay 30 minutes.  You have your own car, you can leave whenever you need to.  That was a successful strategy this time, so I left my house in a fairly stable mood.

When I had just one block left to travel, my eyes started leaking again.  Sigh.  And I had eyeliner on.  I frantically gave myself a pep talk while swiping at my eyes and trying not to turn into a raccoon.  I had even been listening to my happy dance mix tape on the way to ensure this didn't happen.  No idea where I went awry.

Once I was inside and amongst family and friends, I was better.  Mostly.  At least my eyes didn't leak.  I did commit the cardinal sin of keeping my phone near me and texting with friends when I needed to, which wasn't often.  But I liked having a security blanket nearby.

Because my family is weird and competitive, after dinner AND desserts (yes multiple) we all measured our body fat percentages.  Apparently, I'm a fatty boombalatty.  Of course I'm not (I hope), so that got me thinking about what factors can skew the instrument which measures it.  I asked Mr. Peacock because he's a smarty pants, too, and he told me I'm not fat, I'm just old.  I might be paraphrasing.  :)  My numbers show up in the ideal range for my AGE.  Sigh.  I hate that expression.

I hate it for little kids (that's age-appropriate behavior) and for adults (she's very fit for her age).  It always sounds like a rationalization to my ears.  Plus I know it's a downhill spiral from here.  That phrase will follow me the rest of my life.

Anyway, I'm off to relax.  With no family or societal holiday pressures on me.  I probably won't even leave the house today, which is a shame because I'm having an excellent hair day.