Everybody Wants to Rule the World: Day Thirty-Nine

Sunday is burning its last few inches of wick.

I am happy.

I have used pockets of time well today.

I’ve set some clothing out for tomorrow.  I’m going to plan my food for tomorrow.  I’ve set my alarm.  I’ve drunk some water.  I’ve worn my pedometer. I’ve spent 10 minutes on the bike.  I’ve cleaned up in the bathroom.   I’ve finished the last run on Bioshock Infinite and am working on the DLC.  The roads can do as they like because it’s been warm enough that some snow tonight won’t make them impassable.  Not for me and Suzy Suzuki, the pearly mountain goat I drive around in.  I was not sick on shakes or anything else.

Instead of dreading, I’m organizing.

At least for today.

Tonight – shower, have something else to eat that is small, perhaps some more popcorn – which I will come to in a second here, blow out the candles

Tomorrow morning – 10 minutes on the bike
Drink my shake before I go
Finish my makeup before I go instead of trying to tell myself I’ll have time to do it at work.
Bring a bag of trash down to the dumpster before I go to work
Leave at 7:45 rather than 8:00a.m. so as to have two moments to think.
Go to the grocery store and buy food for dinner that is healthy and that I’m willing to make after a long day.  (Not pizza.)
Stand up and walk around while thinking.  Try and get 5000 steps in.
Sign up for a massage on Sunday.
Remember dodgeball because God knows I’d like to forget about it.

…..

Tomorrow night I’m going to start on my vacation budget.  I have some money set aside since my friend and I have started talking about this, but I have got to start doing a lot more research since even though I get to stay somewhere for free, I both don’t want to be a burden and take advantage of the fact that I’m going to Italy.   My thought is to stay overnight in Florence.   At any rate, there’s just a lot more thinking to do on how to make all of this happen.  Though a key part of being excited about it is feeling comfortable in self so…I’m working on that, foodwise, exercise, lifestyle change-wise.  Whatever the road is, the destination is the feeling.  The destination is the pride I’d like to have and currently don’t.  So I’m doing more low-carb, but an imperfect version, for a few days, anyway.  Fuck, I really don’t even want to talk about it, because I feel guilty and then I feel annoyed and then I feel self-righteous and then I feel like the only way anything happens is from ground zero, day one and I destroy everything I’ve got to get back there.  That’s the cycle I need most to break.  So imperfection is accepted and assumed.   Still doesn’t mean I can’t exercise and try and build in some better habits and seduce the positive rather than eschew the negative.   And yes, you can embroider that on a throw pillow for me, please.

 

Don’t Listen, Lupita!

I am dancing around the chore of beginning this post.   It’s a chore, it’s a blessing, it’s a tool, it’s a relief.  It’s a lot of different things to me all rolled into one.   We’re coming up on three years of daily blogging.  And I think I’m thinking hard about what that means or what it could mean.

I am thinking about if I wanted to gather the best bits over five years or ten years of blogging and compile that into a publishable book, that’d be all fine and dandy, but what’s the theme and what’s the point if I don’t change through the telling? What would anyone get out of it?  What’s the actual struggle to have someone learn from if I can’t suss it out and instead, march along the same rut with occasionally different wallpaper?

So, 2013 has to involve me doing things and reporting on things and pushing envelopes and  learning and making big change like losing as much excess weight as the year will allow, maybe doing everything I need to do to quit my job and find a new one that will let me be happy all the time and not just when I force myself to relax so I don’t get an ulcer.  I mean, I really feel like taking it on as a daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, biannually, and annual quest will keep the pieces small but the overall goal in front of me.

In the interim, as I wait to not get eviscerated at work before the end of the year and for the calendar to flip over, I’m feeling all kinds of crazy.  Obviously, in 2013, I want to essentially give up binging.  Which is necessary even if I don’t change anything else about my diet.  But what that means is that right now…I am a bit three sheets to the nutritional winds.  Or…whatever.  And it’s obvious that food can completely devastate your brain, your mood, your physical sense of self even on an hour by hour basis.    Letting myself eat whatever I want is all well and good, because I’m telling myself, last chance, last chance.  But ugh, ugh, no more Whippets.  No more marshmellow, eggs benedict anything.

I just always feel like I could eat something which is actually “I could distract myself by eating something” and those are two different things.

So I’m trying to get a grip, deal with the stress I have and not lose my mind in the process so that I can be on something of a firm footing when I make 2013 happen.

I was going to talk about what we did today, the nice breakfast we had, strolling around Boulder and going to a bookstore which naturally made me think of people, watching the Broncos win as though I had something to do with it, hanging the decorations on the tree, or even just trying to reconnect with a few of my favorite people.  But I’m sort of running out of space for that.  I’m just gathering myself up and continuing the voyage.

 

You Will Be Dead Soon Enough

I have less than an hour to provide us all with some entertainment and given that there are two screens between us and perhaps hundreds of thousands of miles both literal and metaphorical, that’s something of an undertaking.

We were going to get some gas on the way back from trivia, which we did not win but came in fifth at which we feel is decent considering there are only three of us and none of us know anything about sports and none of us care to, but there were three cop cars in the gas station’s immediate area so we decided it would be best for me to get my gas in the morning.

If I could just see my way clear through to Saturday, I will be one hundred percent better, I think.  Today was stressful and even being here in my room with the darkness and the electronic candles, I can’t quite remove myself from its presence.  It comes to me yet again that the only way for me to calm down at the deep, root level that I need to for my health is to quit my job.  It has started to make me so twitchy and so out of my depth and so just plain done up by its travails that something has to happen.  So I keep thinking about my birthday present to myself.   It’ll be two things: one to pay this thing off that is sitting over my chest and if I work very hard and live somewhat spartanly (spartanly is not a word, but it’s 11:12pm and I am not going to lose a single mass of letters to some grammar nazi when you know what I mean) I can have that.  And in the same fell swoop, I can write my letter of resignation.  It has to be very carefully crafted in that I need to be able to continue to help  – I want to be able to continue to help, at least on some levels, I’d love to still be able to have a hand in the festival and the market – but there would be a firm date onto which I would no longer be an employee and someone else would be glad to have my troubles and would handle them much better without going gray in the process.  I’m not going gray but my soul is.  And I think that matters more than the discomfort my leaving will bring.  And that’s still 8 months away.  And I don’t know if I should look for the job first, I mean, I know I need to have something lined up that will pay the same – only it’ll have benefits – and it will keep me out of this level of stomach-knotting responsibility.  I don’t need to be a manager.  I just want to be a head-down sort of doer.   I mean, I have the idea of once I write this birthday exodus letter that I’d stay on for up to even a year to get everything arranged.  But I don’t know if that’s a crazy idea or not because I feel like I’d not easily be able to get away.

I think I need some kind of advisor in this regard.

“The most solid advice for a writer is this, I think: Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

ernest hemingway