Food diary done, check.
30 minutes on the stationary bike, check.
Hot bath, fairly soonish.
Clean living room, check.
Groceries procured, breakfast and lunch is ready for tomorrow, check. Unless lunch is being bought and I have to find some way to not make a really bad choice for myself.
So why do I feel like I’ve wasted this whole weekend? I don’t know. I do feel that way, and can probably attribute it mostly to the fact that the weight didn’t move again today, but as I’m talking with my friends and trying to be funny on the internet, I guess I feel alright today.
Imperfect, but alright.
My boss sent about 10 emails for me to address tomorrow, but I ignored them. I didn’t send out the mass email. Nobody would have read it, I reasoned, because it’s a holiday and it’s my weekend and I’m not getting paid unless I put down for it which we’ve collectively decided we’re not doing. I don’t even remember all of them but at least a couple made me throw up my hands in awe, despair, joy, indifference…mostly indifference to the new paradigm. Everything’s on the table, it seems, and I want to be invested in home life and just skate by with work life. I don’t want to be part of the slicing and the dicing. I don’t really want to be part of any of it.
It feels, to me, like it’s time to get my boat out of the docks, to worry about my business and that means not pouring myself into these questions and problems. Not anymore.
I miss my friends and being wicked and funny with them and planning what books I’m to read and writing my story in a notebook and wandering about without being tethered to nines and fives. Everything is better, but better means that it’s clearer that I don’t necessarily want the circumstances I’m living in right now to be my circumstances for now and for forever. My little sister is now flying on the red eye, or will be soon, to Colombia for a wedding of a friend. She and her boyfriend are going and weren’t sure, I’m sure aren’t sure even at this very moment, what they’re getting into. But they’re going and they’re going to see what happens. I think that’s a good way to be. To not back out even if you’re pretty sure that you’re going to be uncomfortable and unsure of yourself in foreign climes. I’ve been freaking myself out about going to Italy – like what am I thinking – but at the same time, this opportunity, when is it going to come around again?
In that vein, getting the panic dealt with and this mild aversion to the idea of not being in panic and anxiety when it comes to the areas of my health and future, of getting better are becoming writ large in everything I do. I’m like a doll sometimes, just dragged about.
Lots going on in my head, but the tasks go first.