New Life

I'm not happy. And you're a witness to this winter's breakdown. I know when to ask for help, so don't worry about that. I'm just not right. And I don't know where I'm at. I miss him. And I hate him at the same time. I know that's so called normal. But I don't do normal. I have to worry about it. And worry about me. I have had a wonderful respite from my melancholy. I really have. And for that I'm superbly grateful. But it has come to roost. And I do with it what I will. I know enough to keep walking with Dancing Queen and keep loving Baby Z. I know enough to keep taking a shower and showing up for work every morning. But it doesn't make it any easier. To force myself to do such things. The dark of my soul has returned. I only hope for a quick passing.

So, I signed up for this online thingy where you track what you eat and your exercise and blah blah blah. It's kind of fun. Except for the part where I have to put in that I ate an entire box of pepperoni pizza rolls last night. I used to blame my late night eating on my drunkenness. Turns out I'm just a pig. With no self control.

 

Whenever I start exercising and watching what I eat, I always get this delusion that something MAGICAL is going to happen. That the pounds will just melt right off of me and all will be utopia. And whereas I KNOW that is not the case in reality, my brain likes to go to la la land where it really does happen. So, OF COURSE I stepped on the scale this morning, because I walked ONE WHOLE TIME! And um. It didn't budge. Not one single bit. And in fact, it just MAY have gone up a titch. (It is SO a word!) And that means I can stuff my face with sorrow and stop all this exercising nonsense. Because IT ISN'T WORKING!

 

Just kidding. Not really. Shut up. No, you shut up. God, you people need to BACK OFF! 

 

You talk to the voices in your head like that, too. Don't tell me you don't.

 

So I had oatmeal and a banana for breakfast. And I may or may not (Okay I DID ALREADY, SHUT UP!) put brown sugar on my oatmeal and ruin it's complete healthiness.

 

Here are the reasons I want/need to lose weight. Just so you know my motivation. Because your motivation helps you stay on track, right?

 

I have upper abdominal fat which hurts your heart and makes you dead faster. (This one is utterly boring.)

 

The less I weigh, the less my broken leg aches in the cold and wet weather. (Again. Horribly boring. But entirely motivating when it's 40 below and I can't get the damn thing to move the way I want it to and end up dragging it behind me, which is SO not attractive.)

 

No one ever looks at me twice. You know how guys do that double take when a pretty girl walks by? Well, it doesn't happen to me and I think that sucks. So even though this reason is vain, I don't care, it's probably the most motivating one out there.

 

Cowgirl lost 25 pounds and looks fanfuckingtastic and that's not fair. (Competition, anyone?)

 

And my yearly doctor's appointment is in January. He told me last year that even though I was overweight, that I wasn't steadily gaining weight like every other woman he treats and that's a good thing so just stop worrying about it and stay sober, because that's more important than losing weight. Well, I wasn't satisfied with that answer, so I want to be all "You told me I couldn't do it, so take that you non-contraceptive-prescribing-nutjob." (I love my doctor. Really. He would find it funny if I taunted him into complimenting me on my weight loss, but whatever.)

 

So there you have it. And I'm going walking again tonight. In the dark. With Dancing Queen. And I'm bringing a flashlight this time, because it got a little creepy last time.

Dig out your bomb shelters. Squander your inheritance. Go visit a place you've always wanted to see. Hug your children tightly, people. The world is coming to an end.

I EXERCISED YESTERDAY.

And since we were jabbering on so much, we went for 45 minutes instead of 30 minutes. But here's the best part. I met Dancing Queen at the park downtown to walk the bike trail and JUST as we stepped onto the trail? The WHOLE place lit up with Christmas lights. Right at 5:30! They were testing it for Winter Wonderland that happens the night after Thanksgiving. And we got the preview! I'd say that was a pretty awesome treat for partaking of the first "real" exercise I've gotten in over a month.

Either that or it was a sign from above.

Or something.

And I have to say, my mental health was improved for the whole time I was walking and about a half hour afterward. Then? My dad called me to talk about money stuff, and that? That just does not make me happy. So, spiral back down to reality and worry all night long about my finances. Does the man not know me by now? To know that I would lay awake all night fretting about our conversation? That sucked.

Its been awhile since there was a deep, emotion laden post on this blog. And I'm not sure this one is going to be it either, but I'm not doing so hot. I mean, all things considered, I'm fine. I'm not out in the world causing wreckage and mayhem. And I'm not doing it internally either. Which is good, too. But I'm not right. I don't know if it's the early dark? If it's the October breakdown come late to haunt me? Or if I just need to get off my ass and exercise and get those endorphins going. It could be the impending holidays and my inability to make those a joyful event. Anniversaries and holidays die hard with me anymore. Four years he'll have been gone this year on December 29th. Four WHOLE YEARS without him. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. There's Thanksgiving and Christmas to get through first.

I don't know what it is. And I don't like it. This used to be a permanent state for me. The "notrightedness" and it became familiar, so when I finally got a little joy going in my life, I was frightened of it. But now it is unfamiliar, and for that, I am very grateful. I'm not sure what to do about it, but I think I'll just keep plugging along and hoping that it rights itself somewhere along the way.

Remember how I was helping Cowgirl write a research paper for her abnormal psych class?

I think maybe this is the happiest my feet are going to be today. They don't want to put socks and shoes on and go to work. They just want to stay home and cuddle up with the cats and read. I don't know what's gotten into me, but I just want to do nothing. Hrmph. I think it's the early darkness. Gets me every time. Plus, I feel like a COW. C. O. W. COW. The lack of dancing is showing and it makes me all twitchy. Not twitchy enough to DO anything about it, but twitchy nonetheless. So Hrmph and Grumble again.

I've described in the past how my head gets a-head (ha!) of itself on occasion and the crazies kick in and all of a sudden, my life is flashing before my eyes and I have accomplished nothing and been no one in this life. It happens to the best of us, so don't pretend it doesn't happen to you. And if it doesn't, well then, pretend for my sake.

Yesterday, I was looking online again at the graduate program I want to get into. I was perusing the class schedule, the financial aid guidelines, reading the bios of the professors, etc. and the headspin started in. How am I going to pay for this? What if I can't do it full time and work, too? What am I thinking? Trying to do this in my late 30s? What am I trying to accomplish here? Then I slam the laptop shut and squeeze my eyes tight and make it stop. Okay then, I just won't think about it. No more graduate school.

See how fast that happens? So I email Cowgirl and tell her I'm sighing over graduate school and pissed that it's never going to happen. And she emails back, "Well, have you applied?" And I said, "No." And she said, "Well then, you can't say it's never going to happen." I email back, "Fuck you." And she emails me back a smiley face. It's a potshot which one of us has headspin on any given day and when the other one calls us on it, "Fuck you." Is at once a statement of defeat and "I guess you got me on that one."

So, what's the next thing? That's all I can focus on is the next thing. I won't HAVE the financial aid problem unless I actually GET IN. Right? See how that works? I've had my application done for almost a year. I've been holding back because I have to take the GRE again. AGAIN. Stupid standardized test. So I downloaded a practice test and started in. I'm a whiz at the grammar and sentence structure, the reading and the writing. There's no problem there. Obviously. I'm an excellent writer. I know I have that going for me. But the math? Um. I was a straight A student through college calculus, but I can't FOR THE LIFE OF ME remember how to do algebra. I struggled with this question for hours yesterday. Finally calling in the expert (my father). If you can get this and leave the answer in the comments, I'll send you a prize in the mail. REAL MAIL.

Joan can paint a house in 4 hours. Lucas can paint the same house in 6 hours. How long will it take them to paint the house together?

Yeah. That. I had pictures and diagrams and all kinds of nonsense on the page. And when my dad told me how to do it, I just about hung up on him because it was so obvious. So - have at it, my friends. HAVE AT IT. I'll be studying math all day.