Perspicuous: Day 8

People have been, seemingly, checking this blog out.  That’s nice.    It’s all very pleasant to write something and have an idea that a handful of people and/or bots are going to run their eyes/code over it.

Wish I had anything worthy of reporting.

Reliably, at least we can say that nothing will happen until something does.  And for now, we’re on the side of the nothing that hasn’t happened.  I’ll certainly share if any late, breaking personal news comes over the wire today.  I’m growing quite wise and letting the bead in my brain that is fiendishly hopeful settle and simmer and shrink.  It won’t go away, how can it, but it can get very small and still while I go about my business.

The business needed to be busy and distracting.  There’s so much that is running and flying.  Spinning overhead, both the delicate crystalware, and the giant, cushy possibilities of doing something that will benefit you a year down the road.   Suddenly, I’m booking travel and making decisions and whirling here and there, making suggestions my boss approves of and I realize that there isn’t any time for thinking.  Just doing.  I thought I had another week somehow.  Isn’t that always the case?

I am going to end up, despite wishing entirely otherwise, doing everything tomorrow to prepare for this trip. I’m tired as hell from a hectic few days at work, have one more early start, and I still don’t know exactly how I’m managing the points A-B for Thursday.  There’s nobody around to make anything else work and I’m no longer willing to ask my father for things like this.

So, Trix, let’s get to it.  I have almost lost a pound in this first week of dieting.  Which I think is both heartening and disheartening.  Mostly the former, but I get, obviously that the reasoning for this is because in my busy-ness, the fundamentals so easily get lost.  I am tracking rapaciously, I read a book, I lost a pound.  A children’s book, but 100 pages of anything that I’m not required to read by my job is significant to me, and I know that what I’m doing will work supposing I prioritize it over everything else and thus far, I haven’t learned how to do that successfully.  But I did exercise once and even 10% enjoyed it.  I don’t know if that will continue, but I keep thinking I shouldn’t exercise after work because them I’m way too wide awake and don’t sleep.  But I’m so achey and tired I can hardly peel myself out of the covers to get to work on time so the idea of just shoe-horning in an extra hour to silently trot around my 10×10 bedroom, seems….implausible.

Alright. One task at a time.  Packing.  Read a page of the new Princess book.  Stop overpromising and under delivering.

Just get it in the mail.  Just get it out the door.  Don’t live in the pit forever.  Move on.  Move on.  Move on.

 

 

With Alacrity

I can’t make a post today, apologies.

Okay, now that we’ve got that first thought out of the way, it’s time for the confessions and the rekindling of good energy and re-centering into myself, the only home I’ve got.  Confessions:  I didn’t have a healthy lunch.  I was over at my half-sister’s and I made what she ate which was very good and not healthy.  French dip sandwiches and twice baked potatoes and cream puffs.  I didn’t get seconds, but I ate some of everything and I didn’t have the vegetable tray.  So, that was bad.  I was frustrated and that’s my excuse, but I have have a good dinner planned and exercise to do and my friends to chat with and I don’t feel so steamrolled anymore.  It doesn’t either let me off the hook or make me stop wanting to lose weight.  Just got to do as I intend and move forward.

Fitness progress fact: I can pull these pants off without un-buttoning them.  Fitness progress fact number two: the brand new scale that cannot read my body fat because my feet are apparently filthy and wrong no matter how many times I wash them, but the scale reading adds 5 pounds to the top of my project.  This is frustration and I have to look it in the eye and tell you and myself that it really doesn’t matter.

So, after running around a bit and calming myself down about hanging out with my little sister after she insists that the Starbucks guys were hitting on her and when I didn’t say anything about it (to me they were just borderline over-cheerful), she makes sure I know that she’s been hit on like a million times in her life and she KNOWS when she’s being hit on.  This is her in a nutshell.  She’s just reporting facts and because you don’t engage her and and agree and laugh when she says something like that or if she tells you you’ve got food all over your mouth and you don’t immediately thank her for the service, you’re being a bitch.

I have absolutely nothing to say in this regard and it’s hard for me to be pleasant when the conversation begins with the assumption that she has worldly experience and we’re her podunk, Gilbert Grape’s mother-looking, floppy family she needs to scream into acceptability.

I really want my self-esteem to blossom and overcome this reaction.  I want to not care and just be, but I haven’t gotten there yet.   It’s just a number but it’s colored the whole day.

Tomorrow’s work.  If I can, I’m going to be with the friends, eat the very light dinner,  do the exercise, pick up for 15 minutes and get ready for tomorrow.  Brace myself well and fully and do what I can to cheer myself up.  My birthday’s next week and I am starting to have expectations.  I’m starting to think I could maybe have it the way I want and that’s not going to happen.  It’s another day.  We still have to do our work and the best way is forward, with alacrity.