Procellosus (15/365)

The power of Fred.

It’s real.
Not that I’ve suddenly gone off-course.  I just am quite aware how draining and exhausting and bleh being OTR can be even if you’re entirely prepared for it to be happening.  Yesterday, even with great intentions, I found my steam running out much earlier and much more frequently than the previous day had indicated. I wanted to do another 3 miles of walking and just laid there.   This may also be because I did, now that I think of it, go and see the sister, and get the groceries and scrape the car and carry and do my best with my very short frame to fling a giant plastic tote of recycling over my daffy head into the bin.   And the part that matters was seeing the sister and hearing how despondent she was with her relationship with the guy person in her life and me talking about mine and needing so desperately to DTR (which I, in my great obliviousness, had never heard of, but means Define the Relationship).  It threw a lot of energy into a weird place.  Because I know I need to this, but every time I attempt to even parse the words or make the space for
But the dishes got washed.  And the laundry got put away.  And that’s an astonishing big deal so that I know tonight when I go home, I can cook without any junk in the sink to deflate the idea of steak and spiralized squash noodles.
I have also ordered things that are perhaps not so straight-forwardly cleanly low-carb.  Along with some great things, but a few questionable items that I know are going to slow things down.  Still, I am hopeful that my awareness will be half of the battle and that expanding a boundary in the short-term is better than calling the whole thing off.
Tomorrow, we’re being provided lunch.  I’m slightly freaking out that I can eat any of it.  I just have to bring some of my questionably low-carb home items to back me up when there’s quiche and sliders or whatever the catering throws out on the table (can’t hope for fajitas where the culling is fairly straightforward.
The middle of the month, there’s a meeting with my cousin that I thought of as my one-off, cheat meal.
But end of the month I’m going to Seattle.  Food there is…?
If I’m honest, I’m questioning this isn’t asking for trouble.
Because at least in my mind I want this to be the year of focusing on this.  I want this to be the year January-December where I’ve put time and effort and energy into the old bod.  Gross.  Into my health mildly together.  Into not being utterly beholden to Food and Ideas About Food, to Food as Narcotic.  I want, just as I’ve proven with this posting exercise, to be able to steady myself day after day after day and see what that accretion of time and effort can build.

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