07 May 2010

Wed., 5 May 2010

Happy Sink-o De My-o, yo.

It's been a busy, busy time of year. Spring usually is. Between coming out of the winter fog, and a little person's birthday party planning, and the start of BMX, and (since I'm being honest here) trying to cram in as much "quality time" with my older kid as I can before he disappears to his asshole father's house for the majority of the summer, I barely have time to wipe my ass. (Rest assured, I still make the time for that activity.) My other site has all but stalled out, and I don't expect getting back to it til the weather gets shitty again (although I do have a project to complete this weekend).

And, of course, there is still the whole existential crisis I'm in the middle of. Who am I, where am I, why am I...

I think I'm getting closer, though.

I'm on the fence about my gym membership. I really think my recent bout of self-loathing has been exacerbated by my gym's clientele. Not to mention it's really nice outside now and I'd like to figure out a way to incorporate exercise with family time. Because I'm not willing to take time away from my kids during the week (any more than I already have to) and dammit, I am ass-tired at 8pm. Beyond that, I know how to run, how to walk, how to ride my bike, how to do push-ups and crunches and dips and lunges and squats and all kinds of other things I don't necessarily need a gym for. (At least not until it gets cold and starts snowing again. Ick.) I'm contemplating putting my membership on hold for a few months and reevaluate the situation this fall.

I'm also reevaluating this OCD behavior with food and eating. I'm going to stop tracking my every bite because although it works for a lot of people (I guess), it seems to be backfiring on me. I cheat. I look at my list and feel bad about myself. So I eat more. Then I feel worse when I look at the list. So I eat more. And so on.

Yes, I know, I'm crazy. It grows on you after a while.

So my goal is--stop obsessing about food. That doesn't mean I'm going to go hog wild (literally) and start hitting up every drive-thru I pass in my car. It doesn't mean out-of-control portions and 2nds (or 3rds, or 4ths) at every meal. It means I'm going to stop being obsessed and calculating and analyzing and scrutinizing every damn bite. Because that's not happy.

I'm also going to try to remember, no matter how fat I "feel," my waistbands all beg to differ. I'm not as fat as I think I am. I'm probably not as old/pasty/useless, either, and my hair probably isn't so bad after all.

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