A Moment of Smuggery* If You Please

I’ve noticed in the last week or so that my face is changing again, getting more definition. Tonight I went clothes-shopping. My Visa card says “See photo ID” on the back for verification, and now and again people actually ask. So, she looks at it, then looks at me, goes “Wait. Is that even you?”

See, I had to get my driver’s license reshot on Sept. 29th, 2007, and it was receiving my photo ID in the mail that was my Lowest of my Lows. I thought I looked nice that day. No. I looked really fat and unhealthy. Over the next few months I got my head in the game as I lost about 8 pounds, then in January ’08, my ass got in gear.

And it’s about fucking time that Lowest of the Lows driver’s license photo threw someone off.

Good. ‘Cos I’ve worked damn hard for That Moment. Boy, I smiled. And a cutie-pie was behind me in line too. “Yeah, just the 75 pounds heavier version.” “Oh! 75 pounds!”

I brag about it because I CAN. And I’m going to CONTINUE. I done paid for this. Time to cash in on it. It’s a recharge.

Oh. And I bought my first “large” dress shirt in, say, 18 years tonight. Like, not even extra-large. What? Large. Almost medium! I’d be happy with medium. I should be more jazzed. I am proud though. Smug and satisfied. And I want more. So. Great motivation. Really great.

But the day’s tempered because my back’s flaring up. You win some, you lose some. It’ll settle down. Always does. Two steps forward, one step back. Rome wasn’t built in a day. And a million other cliches. But they’re right.

*PS, If you’re some grammatical genius (because there’s always one) wishing to comment below that “smuggery” isn’t a word? Uh, duh. It’s called creative license. Until the AP owns my ass, I can defy spellcheck, and you can take it and like it. Enjoy.