Why did you sell yourself to the illuminati, Ane? Or didn’t you have any choice?
Had a curious thought today: what if instead of worrying that we never would get the room organized after pulling to all the summer clothes to pack, we just knew that eventually, we’d get it cleaned up?
If we just stopped hoping to be Mary Poppins and pulled down what we needed? Trusted that we wouldn’t let the room be a mess forever, that things are going on now, and it’s not pass/fail question.
And a weight lifted. We will get it packed. I will keep on plugging with my diet. I did my situps. I will get on the bike for ten minutes.
Okay. In case you missed the news, it was Sunday, all day.
I did some things like making a couple pancakes in the morning, and buying Chipotle (which I have to admit gave me a stomachache directly after I secretly rolled my eyes at the overzealous, smirky father in the line in front of me made a sly comment on their “issues.”) and I didn’t precisely track it. I knew what it was, I thought about the calories. I bought some cauliflower. These things do not add up to weight loss.
I had half-decided that because of the trip, the nature of this dual trip…of grief and joy and me slingshotting around the map by both impulses, and the absolute absence of control regarding where my food will be coming from and what, precisely and exactly will be measured out and put into it, that I couldn’t do much in the way of dieting. I also had these incredibly loose pants which one would think would make a girl excited as all hell, but just made me feel dread and peer in the mirror at myself as to how such a thing could occur and yet I would feel like such a lump.
But, I don’t know. I am kind of into it today. Now, 11:23p.m., the birthing hour, I am kind of into the idea of the fact that I’m trying to get my body a bit sharper, a bit more together. I feel kind of like, okay, I can figure out that this is the loose pants OMG let’s eat burritos and die in a garbage fire moment. This is a pre-set date on the calendar of my success. This is a proscribed part of the way we get there. If I turn back, I will see it again. I have seen it so many times before. It’s the first boss fight, really, in this whole game I’m trying to play. I will be here every time until I do something different about it. There is no other script.
So. I am going to do more about it. Better about it. I am going to acknowledge this journey while I’m gone and not lock it up until I can perfectly handle it on my return home. That will have its own vibes and stresses. This is life. So. Yeah.
I have my reasons which I intended to elaborate on, but words got soaked up in the telling and so maybe tomorrow. Maybe when there’s more to say because there’s not anything right now except pixie dust and a monkey to follow.