Blerghwogoogowh. It is me. Are you not delighted and pleased to hear that I have made it through another day. I can’t give in too many days in a row, eventually you have to sit at the light and wait for it to register you’re there before it can know it needs to change.
It was Sunday and I worked it. I am not so terribly worse for wear, but I am keenly alerted now to how much reason and work and will that I have built up towards a new year’s exercise regime. A little standing, a little walking, and none of it is enough to remotely counteract the fact that these stretchy pants I’ve always had and have worn until just on the shy side of worn out, feel far less stretchy these days. It can only go so far. Me and my bad eating habits, not the pants. It is adding to the problems. It is not numbing me up as it should. The chemicals are not being plied correctly. I need to calm down so a salted caramel coated in chocolate is procured from my coat pocket – given to me by my boss for being a pleasant enough person to spend a day worrying with – and suddenly I could Charleston across the popcorn ceiling. I make extraordinarily dumb choices when I give myself a choice. I need to buy some shakes again and start worrying about crunches.
The goal, I suppose for pushing so dang long between dieting efforts, is to find this point. Surfeit. As I’ve mentioned before, mostly around this time of year, I am looking for grossed-out, uncomfortable, pukey, bulging, sagging, over-salted, thirsty, aching, throbbing, bloated, exhausted, irritated and irritating, sour, melancholic, hazy, and straight-up dumb. I think we’re just about there. When you just can’t take no damn bit more of yourself and your stupid habits and your inane rationalizations and you just want to scrape off the year’s barnacles and emerge, winter white onto the black marble slab. Gleaming and ready to be put to work, properly this time. If you don’t feel awful enough, then you’ve left some secret reserve of wanting that will spill out right when you’ve gotten yourself halfway out the door towards transformation. You will leave some sample of your old ways and your old life chained to your ankles. That will not do, not if you aim to mean it. At least for a little while.
I will have some sort of official process, some sort of official change to notify the world of here once the job is complete for 2015. I have to draw up the strength I need to do this. I have to become faithful and light.
I am trying to use visual distraction rather than edible sorts: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ73AKku2cw
I am reading Mindy Kaling’s first book and that is cheering me, I am in the dark, which is cheering me. I am finishing this amidst music and a far distant cat crowing about the inanimate toy she’s managed to capture and drive further into undeadery. I am, without a doubt.