I am writing to you now over my plate of roasted chicken thigh and a stewy wine and carrot and cherry tomato concoction (leftovers, I might add) and this is something of an achievement. In that, I chose this of my own free will after leaving the house for writers’ group and having a fair amount of calories to allot for dinner.
I’ve felt a bit Lucy McGoose lately about the diet. Still doing it, still tracking, still exercising, but my heart and brain have been slowly melting down the broomstick of intention. The fact that I have all of this extra time, but not really any extra money, and in fact will have less money than ever…none of that seems to have sunk in yet. I feel as though I am floating, unable to affect even so much as a detectable increase in friction. In part. Sort of.
I have to qualify that because today was good insofar as I made choices that reflected my participation in the diet, lifestyle change, whatever. I did things and refused offers and drank water and thought about it without shoving it out of my mind. Without lingering regrets about not getting another teaspoon of ice cream or being given leave to go fall apart some fast food. It was just too many calories, it was just factual that the food equated to more calories than I had to give, so it wasn’t possible.
It was nice to feel it so clear in my mind. So straightforward to stop when you are supposed to stop.
So, yes, hello. How are you? I am well. It feels like I need to make introductions despite having been here every day – the writing has been fruitful and I knocked out another section for group. Perhaps this has been part of the disconnected sensation. So here’s the news:
- Getting pretty excited for Seattle. After picking the parents up at the airport, I’m ready to take another flight. To feel those hundred thousand little things that travelling provides – the alertness, the expectations, the freedom, the vulnerability, the newness, and of course, getting to see my friends. Taking off all the encumbrances of who I am here, and being who I am – but there. I know what I mean.
- The working 4 hour days has really thrown me. It all comes down to habit. So the plan tomorrow is to get up at the usual time, not linger in bed, and work out and clean up for a bit. Then get ready and write. Build the right muscles, Popeye.
- Tomorrow, too, I plan to put some makeup on my face. I have missed doing that. My morning routine has evolved out of taking enough time to even be alive to the degree in the morning where I would recognize missing it. I do miss it, though.
- Put on some pants. Same size as the jeans I’ve got on which are getting really loose on the legs and NOPE. Closer, but a big ol’ NOPE. But I didn’t find that painful, but instead, a target. When those work, we’ll have done something concrete. So shooting for that.
- UH. Tomorrow. Tomorrow!