~A Bitter Swallow~

Sometimes I just feel so unbelievably inadequate, no matter how hard I try to change it. Everything I do just seems to get screwed up in one fashion or another. Or it's not good enough.

I'm going to make a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Hopefully I can get a new doctor that I actually feel comfortable talking to. Think I might look into mental health, as well. Check out what all my insurance will cover.

I'm thinking about cutting my hair. It's long, and it's heavy. But, it's also a big part of me. It's one of the things people immediately recognize and associate with me. I'm not talking about going and getting a trim. No, I'm thinking a few inches. That's right. I said few. As in, multiple. Like, to my armpits. I'll call it my armpit hair. It will make me giggle. We all know all is right with the world if I'm giggling. That, or it's about to all go to hell. Take your pick.

Today, I was sitting at the table in the staff room eating my lunch, when I noticed a van very slowly and carefully easing its way into one of the parking spots in the staff parking lot. This usually makes me fume, and I find it deliciously funny when they get parked behind, and then have to wait while the staff member who parked behind them gets a chance to run and get their keys so they can move. Today, however, after the young lady got out of the driver's seat and ran to the front of the building, I noticed someone still in the van. As I was reading something rather not-the-best-while-you're-eating, my mind was prone to wandering. I leaned forward to glare at this person in our highly-coveted parking spot, and noticed a great big "STUDENT DRIVER" sign plastered on the back of the van. The person in the passenger seat was her driving instructor. Way to go, Teach. Learn em' to park where they should and very well could get ticketed!

As for that book I was reading in above-mentioned scenario, I am starting to think there is something dreadfully wrong with me and my brain, when it comes to reading material. Especially since most reading material is read either A: while I'm eating, or B: right before I go to bed. I am drawn towards the outrageous and macabre, and always get to those real "juicy" spots right when I'm taking a bite. Right now, I'm reading "Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers" by Mary Roach. It's, naturally, about dead bodies, and all the scientific stuff that's done to them. I just happened to be on the chapter about how, in great and food-descriptive detail, bodies decompose. It was awesome.

My big toe is driving me crazy. I think I have athlete's foot on it. It burns and hurts when I wear shoes. Just there on my poor big toe. Right up on top. I mean, I think it's there between the Big Toe and the Pointer Toe in that.. webbing there. But, that doesn't bother me so it doesn't really count. So, yeah. Just throwing that out there, because it's irritating me right now.

I just had a lady come in and get almost naggy irritated that we told her husband he could not check out books on her account because he was not an authorized user. "Well, we've always got them for the kids before...". I politely mentioned that on kid accounts, usually the parent is listed on there. For the adult cards, we can't just let any Joe off the street come in and say "I want to use So-and-So's account." Could you imagine? She finally was like.. "Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense." At least she got it. Sometimes they just go on being huffy.

My car blew up. But, then I found out just the water pump went out, and that doesn't sound nearly as fantastic and dramatic. However, it's a hell of a lot cheaper to fix. So, hopefully that happens this weekend. My best friend from California and her son are coming up next week, and I think it would be most fabulous if I did not have to have her rent a car while she's here.

Speaking of her coming up, I'm totally stoked. I don't know what all we're going to do, but I don't care. I can't wait to see her. It's been like... eleventy billion years or something close to that, since I've seen her. *Happy Dance*

Ok, I'm going to leave on the dancing note, because random sporatic dancing is just plain fun.

So, I've been wanting to start getting up earlier. I want to go back to needing less sleep- be once again one of those "late to bed, early to rise" people like I was. Stupid aging.
I digress.
Anyway... what I did not have in mind was waking at 3:30 this morning! *slap forehead*

I'm tired. I thought I was going to be sick by the time I left the house at 8:30am. By my break at 12:15, I was tired, but okay. Now, I'm doing much better than I anticipated. I'm curious as to whether that will all break down the moment I walk through the door at home, though. Bummer is, I can't go to sleep when I get home. Slacker me hasn't been on the treadmill since I don't remember, and no exercise since the Friday before this past one (so the 14th?). Bad, bad me. And I had vowed "no excuses" tonight. American Idol is on, so I have something to watch. Kids are gone, so I don't have that distraction. So... NO EXCUSES! Which means I need to drag my tired butt onto that treadmill for at least 30 minutes tonight.

Hey... I'll sleep good tonight, eh?

Thursday and Friday were absolutely beautiful days. The sun was up high, bright and wonderful. I love days like that- where the colors of the world are so crisp and clean. Sometimes, especially if looking at the skyline, I have to stop and marvel at how fake it looks. My daughter and I have both spoken about how many of the clouds look painted on, the shading behind seeming to pop them out from the backdrop. Or perhaps just paper cutouts, glued to an existing background. Gorgeous. It often absolutely takes my breath away.

Due to this grandiose beauty, I decided this past Thursday to make the 3-mile stroll up and down the hilly road to my daughter's school to pick her up. That morning, she had said she wanted to walk home with me, so I was expectant of a 6-mile round trip. Well, she had begun to feel ill, so we walked the half-mile or so up to the grocery store, bought her some allergy, sore throat, cough medicine, then had Dustin come pick us up and bring us home. Friday, I decided to make the trip again. This after I had spent the morning mowing our uneven, overgrown lawn. On the up slopes, I was pretty certain that my ankles were going to pop out of my shins. It was dreadfully painful. I made it, though. This time, however, there was no notion that she wanted to walk home. Dustin met us there, and drove us home.

Yesterday, Saturday, I could tell my body wasn't completely happy with all the exercise I had put it through over the course of the past couple days. Yet, I still drug myself through some chores, out to a BBQ at the park, up and down the mall doing some light shopping. We tried to go to Costco, but alas, they had already closed for the evening. I was unaware they closed so early on Saturdays! All the pain aside, though, I feel good about it. I pushed myself and got that exercise in there. I spent time outside marveling at the gorgeous world about me while I did it. I got some fresh air. And I have the self-satisfaction of accomplishing something.

I've decided that I want to make those two days of walking to the school part of my weekly repertoire. I think I may need to get myself a better pair of walking shoes, but it is such a nice walk, it only takes an hour of my time, and does so much for how I feel about myself.. it is more than worth it. Let's just hope the weather keeps in my favor!

You've all heard me moan and complain about my weight. Today, I stepped on the scale and groaned inwardly (okay.. maybe a bit (lot) outwardly as well) at the number it finally stopped at. I berated myself and felt like crap, until I realized (by a handy post-it I put on my desktop to keep myself motivated- it was my largest weight as yet) that I've lost 15 pounds in the last month or so. That, was enough to completely turn those grunts of protests into squeals of glee.

One day, a month or so ago, I stepped on the scale (after avoiding it for awhile), only to discover that I was at the largest weight I've ever been. Including while I was pregnant. Let me tell you, I just about lost it. I cried in the shower for a good, long time. Then, I resolved that this was not going to continue. I determined that I was not going to cross that next threshold in numbers. I went to my laptop, and used the little "sticky note" application to post a big note with my current weight on it on there, so I would see it every time I use my laptop.

I began to really pay attention to what I was eating. I started to pay attention to my body when I ate; to recognize when I was full. I stopped looking at food as a "treat". I stopped the pattern of thinking that if I had it on my plate, I had to finish it, especially when it came to junk food and sweets. I do kind of keep that mindset with my veggies, though. I try to make sure that I eat all of the veggies on my plate first, and then go on to what's left. And I've been making myself aware of the calorie content of what I am eating, as well as fat, etc... One night, I remember being anxious for a Snickers bar, until I turned it over and read how many calories are in that one little bar. My craving instantly vanished, and I wound up giving the candy to someone else.

I am trying to keep myself more active. I park far away from the stores. I use stairs over elevators or escalators. I get outside and play in the yard, or walk on my treadmill. That treadmill is probably the best investment I've ever made. I plan to do more hiking, discover new trails. I've signed up for meetups with other like-minded people, so maybe I can get myself a group of people interested in keeping each other accountable and motivated. I want to get more active in getting my son many of his Boy Scout badges, and many of those are physical activity. I'm anxious for the Summer and the nicer weather to get here, so I can get outside more.

I plan to do a cleanse in the next couple weeks. I need to do a little more research, but my body has definitely been asking me for it. I'm curious as to how many of my ailments will go away with the fat. How much my headaches will decrease, the nausea, the feeling of "unwellness".

It was nice to be able to take that new number on the scale, and instead of cry over it, rejoice over it. To use it to keep me motivated. To know that the changes to myself and my lifestyle are working, and the proof is there. To lift my spirits, instead of dwell on negative.

I've come to the conclusion that work makes me fat. Not physical work- but having a job work. You laugh. I'm serious.



I didn't use to be this big. Nope. I had gained weight after the kids, and I still looked huge to myself in the mirror. What is crazy, is that what I use to see in the mirror and bulk at- Well, that's pretty much what I am now. Sometimes that makes me feel better, because I think that maybe I'm actually seeing more than what is really there. Other times it makes me shudder, because I can't believe I let this happen.



Anyway- I'm going off course.

I've done a lot of thinking over the past several weeks. And something I've come to realize is that I am tons more productive at home when I am not working. Not only do I cook, but I bring down those cookbooks and find new recipes and actually COOK. I clean the house.. not just pick it up. I organize. I get into those overcrowded spaces and clear them out. I go through those hundreds of still-packed boxes and unpack or get rid of them. Man, do I need to do that. I get outside and walk. I have more patience when it comes to my kids, and their homework. I can volunteer at their schools and events and not feel like I'm pressing myself thin. I devote more time to things. I am not so exhausted by the time I get home that I want to just sit and veg. I crank up the radio and sing and dance my way through the day. I actually enjoy doing the housework and such. I loved having my boyfriend and kids come home to a clean house, knowing what I was making for dinner that night (if not having already started it), feeling accomplished at having tackled and finished projects.

Don't get me wrong. I love love love my job. It's the best I've ever had. The atmosphere is wonderful. My coworkers are wonderful. Even the patron's are great. But, I'm a lazy person. And when I get home, or on my days off, I don't want to do anything outside of the "needs-to-be-done".

So, now I need to figure out how to live in both worlds, and be both people. How do I mesh the person I am when I'm not working into the person I am while I am working? Somehow, take all that energy that I have when not working, and keep it going for when I get home, or have the day off. It's not like I'm going to be able to completely quit working anytime soon (try never), so I've got to figure something out. Anyone have any suggestions?

It was absolutely beautiful outside yesterday. So, not being able to resist being out in it, I decided to take our dog for a walk, and went to pick my daughter up from school. That's a 3-mile hike up and down the road. Nothing was wrong with the day or the walk. As a matter of fact, it was quite incredible. The walk seemed effortless, whereas the last time I walked it, I ached for days. The day was warm with a nice breeze to keep me from getting overheated.



The only problem was with the car of youngsters that drove by. There was a time in my life where walking down the road elicited cat-calls by these same carloads. This time, however, I was subjected to the cruelty about weight. It's the first real "slam" I've had concerning this issue. And, it really messed up an otherwise perfect day.

Since I've had my son, I've struggled with my body weight. Having always been a slim girl, I didn't know how to react to this extra baggage I was carrying around. While I was pregnant, it didn't bother me too much, because I was obviously pregnant, and that was an excellent excuse. Now- there are no excuses. In the past couple years, I have really packed them on. Due to personal happenings, and the outcomes of those happenings, I became complacent and folded into myself, not to escape what was happening, but as a coming home and finally feeling like I was where I needed to be. Unfortunately, I also became sedate, and that wrecked havoc on my waistline.

Now, looking in the mirror makes me ill. To that point where I've almost literally become sick from it. I hate it. I hate trying on new clothes, because nothing fits how I want it to. It only points out to me how much I have changed in body mass. I try to diet, healthfully, and exercise, but it doesn't quite work out how it should. Our lifestyle isn't very conducive to a healthy eating pattern. And neither is the fact that I'm still waiting on an oven (which should hopefully be there by the time I get home. I'm not holding my breath for that though). My weakened state doesn't let me exercise how I'd like to, although things like that walk are much overdue and underdone.

So- now I receive the insults instead of the catcalls. It's amazing how a body can change, and what it can do to one's mindset.

Have you ever read the book, or seen the movie, of Stephen King's 'The Mist'? Every time I think of that story, I think of my brain. It's how my brain feels of late. Fuzzy, obscure. I can't quite see in there, and there is something scary lurking within, snatching up thoughts, ideas and memories like the tentacles snatched up people.

I haven't been feeling well. My head aches in a dull, sickly way. My body (mostly my neck, shoulders and back) aches the same. My tummy has a constant hint of nausea at all times. My tongue feels covered with some kind of paper. And my eyes see things that aren't there. Not outright hallucinations. Just shadows.

In other words.. I feel icky.

But, in other news, I hung out with a monkey on my head today. No- not the metaphorical addiction, but my daughter's stuffed monkey. Apparently it was cozy up there while she attended to making her lunch this morning. It was cool. We hung out, ate bananas, and sung "Yellow Submarine" from the Beatles.
So, now I'm told I need to start blogging about Monkey's adventures whilst on my head. We'll see how that turns out. I may just have to attach him to a headband and start wearing him (her) around so there will be all kinds of fun stuff to write about.

Don't hold your breath for that. While blue may be my daughter's favorite color, I'm pretty sure Monkey's is yellow. And mine is orange. So no one wins there.