Cerulean Blue


I have a small distraction right now.  I know I should be blabby about it.  But there’s no reason to be.  I, just. It’s nothing.  So far.


Dinner has left me full.  Maybe over-full of chicken and tomato-y cream sauce.  I had a compliment from a co-worker that I looked like I had lost weight and now I’m second-guessing the low-carb pasta and how logey and warm I feel inside.   It’s going to be okay, but I suddenly feel a bit worried about my direction.

I just am noticing the signs.  A slight feeling of strings going lax, of rules bending.  I don’t quite know where my weight is and that’s both a good and a bad thing.  I’m not fixated on it, but I’m not being guided by it either.  I don’t think it’s gone up much if any, I haven’t really done anything to activate insta-fat, as far as I know, but I definitely haven’t done anything to really dig in and work on it.  Hearing that comment was nice, and I glanced in my reflection in one of the many glass panels we have in the office, I guess I can see some difference.  I was wearing all black, though, and I think that probably made an impact on both of our vision.  I hadn’t really looked in a while, getting into that phase of not letting myself really look at myself in mirrors again.  If everything’s quasi-alright, I don’t have to remember I have a body.  But today, I both saw a difference and an almost defeating reconnection to how much I “should do” to be “acceptable.”   Strange how you can think the most vicious and horrible things in your own head and hold that separate from your own understanding of societal pressures, media expectations, and a long history of body issues are causing you to feel that way.

I thought I could work on the story, but that’s not proving to be likely to happen in the next half an hour and I’m hoping beyond hope that I can keep myself calm and on an even-keel so I can do the meditative/stretchy bit so that maybe I can fall asleep a bit earlier, get up a bit earlier and do something to promote a better mental state tomorrow.   It’s a small hope, and I’ve had it almost every night I’ve ever been alive, but I know what I need to do and now it’s just a matter of choosing it.  Of continuing on the path towards becoming America’s Next Top Eh, She’s Alright.  I’m listening to this and trying to not get hyper even though typically all my energy begins to flare right about now – almost midnight – and I begin to feel at my most creative.  My best plans get cooked up right around now and then die when I clutch at every last grain of sleep come 7a.m.  No rationale to get me moving and taking advantage of the daylight seems effective at that hour.