Not sure I’m actually balanced but I’m on an even enough keel that I’m enjoying myself in general.
Work is work. I had to dispatch the entire day instead of supervise but it went quickly and I wasn’t so exhausted when I got home that I needed to take a nap. Bad news; I’ve gained 40 pounds since I started this job. Good news: I’ve lost 8 pounds of that in the last week simply by sleeping.
I’m trying to stay even so that trend continues. I’ll sleep when I’m sleepy and eat when I’m hungry and go from there. I need to make room for a place to do some… yoga-lite. I can’t balance correctly for actual yoga but some room for some stretches would be good. It would work out the kinks and get me going.
I find myself fixated on people for odd reasons. My protege at work is getting himself over his head with the office tart and he’s been warned so I’m just backing off and letting him find out for himself what she’s about. I despise the office romance. I’ve banned them for myself… in spite of what is sometimes said about me and one of my former coworkers, that’s not a line I’ve ever crossed at this job.
I’m feeling ready to start dating again but I don’t want to go about it the way I have been. Random hookups and drinking with my fringe friends. I absolutely need to stop drinking with the management team at work. That’s just too much.
I feel I’ve come to terms with myself. I am, in fact, a morbidly obese, barren, neurotic and I kind of love myself this way. I could be healthier. I could love myself more. I could do and be a lot of things. So could everyone else.
I miss my friends. I see them rarely. I need to do a deep clean of the apartment this week. I’m going out of town for a weekend and I would hate to come back to my usual filthy existence. I should really stop living as if I’m in a frat house. Job 1 was getting rid of the spiders and I think I’ve beat the suckers.
I’ve been bolstered by the communities online… nearly as well as I was 15 years ago when I still lived at home. I don’t have the direct support I used to… I burned those bridges in a manic episode some 8 years ago. Still… The Bloggess is going through a time and I feel for her. I circled the blackhole earlier this here and it was hell on earth. I hope I never go that deep again. Jared Padelecki and Always Keep Fighting (Third round!) in conjunction with To Write Love On Her Arms has kept me from the brink. Just to know there’s that kind of power and response out there. I bought a couple of shirts around my birthday and wearing them to work and having to explain them gives me this… sort of power over myself. To be strong while I explain. To be calm. To not be afraid that today is the day that I have the panic attack in front of everyone. Just to educate maybe one person at a time about mental health.
I’m looking for all my old joys. Reading fluffy novels at a goodly pace, watching my shows, going back and watching old shows, dabbling in writing when I’m not otherwise engaged, listening to music. Singing. I haven’t belted in years and I’m working myself back up to it. I’m so critical of my own voice that I never learned to love it and my range. I’m starting to really like what my voice does… even if I’m the only one who hears it. (To be honest, I could have a mic and amplifiers and I still would be the only one who could hear me)
I wish it weren’t so hot so I could explore the neighborhood. I’m less afraid of falling than I used to be. I’ve embraced my gait fully. I can tell, by my walk, how much pain I’m in. I don’t feel the pain most of the time but if I’ve got a swing in my hips, my back is good. If I walk like an uptight robot, I’m in for a rough day.
I’ve even been thinking of hitting on this guy I get a glimpse of once a day but I’m a chickenshit and that will probably never happen. I would normally be thinking that I’d cross paths, mumble something incoherent and have to leave the state in my mortification. I don’t feel like that. Just find myself reading into everything. Like, why does he sit in his car until after I pass when he has enough time to drive off before I get to his lane. I do walk very slow these days. Does it mean anything? I don’t know. Probably not. Possibly not. Anyway.
Watching the Hillywood Show Supernatural Parody constantly is helping my moods. I don’t think I’ve even heard the Taylor Swift original but I do love this Deanmon.
Usual me =
Earlier this year me =
Me, this month =
In any case, here’s some music: