💲 My current state of broke-ness has inspired a new era of grown-up-ness:
🌽 I actively cook. It’s amazing. We’re talkin’ from-scratch-raw-chicken-and-frozen-vegetables-becoming-food. I COOK. And as a result, I now eat green vegetables with lunch and dinner almost every day, and no fried foods. Who’da thunk it: the key to eating right for diabetes was literally losing all my junk food money.
📊📈Furthermore, I have tightened up my budget. Correction: I now USE a budget. I’ve always been one of those kids who learned by doing and got it “in her own time”. It’s like everything I’ve been told about nutrition and personal finance has just clicked in.
💧⚡So, I suppose whenever this dark cloud of financial mess blows over I’ll just be set. 😎
The head is not complete, but then it never is. At least I am built up to my mouth now. A body housing a voiceless soul is a soda can in the freezer.
Productivity can be measured just as effectively in healthy choices as tasks accomplished.
An afternoon of casual clothes shopping at Target resulting in an unsuccessful attempt to locate a flattering sweater, top, or bra has left me feeling that one of two things is utterly broken: 1) my grown-up ability to buy clothing that fits my body, or 2) my body.
On a sidenote, it is surprisingly difficult to cry silently in a dressing room.
F*ck retail. Time for some fro-yo therapy.
This weekend was Intense and I am exhausted. I think I have an “I Love the World ” hangover.
I have been drunk on vibrant colors and high on personal space. I entertained, amused, comforted, authorized, picked up every stray ball of silence and conversational lull and gracefully popped it back into the air.
Look at Spaz, they said. Life of the party, they said. She should do stand-up, they said. I assured them I would only be funny and charming for another week and a half at max, and that kind of window would make for one hell of a touring schedule. I absolutely killed.
Today has been a much-needed day of rest with no people interaction. I had plans for the morning, but Operation Rebalance Sanity is a worthy cause. I might even read.
Aren’t upswings awesome? I love the world. Last week I wanted to dropkick the universe off the face of the planet, as I customarily feel during my cyclical downswing. In approximately four weeks I’ll have my combat boots on again. But today, I wholly embrace the sunshine with joy, the green grass with ecstasy, and the complete dickery of so much of the world with a tolerance and love that rivals that of Mother Theresa. Well, perhaps she wasn’t feeling this kind of love.
Because I think I could totally love some complete dickery right now, too.
Aren’t upswings awesome? I’m already eating and sleeping less; it’s been twenty-four hours since the downswing broke, but there’s so much blogging to do. My sluggish brain has just turned back on and the colors just turned back up. My therapist, in preparation for last week, was coaching me on how to pad my life with things that normally bring me excessive joy, things that are extra special; to go through the motions of keeping/using/wearing/eating/listening to them anyway. The concerted effort, like making a house ready for a hurricane, actually buffered the fall a bit. It wasn’t so horrendous; I wasn’t as miserable in my own skin.
But I find now that I don’t have a tether. What can I pad myself with as a reminder that what goes up really MUST come down, and that it would be wise to stop throwing care/caution/time/obligation/myself into the air?
Aren’t upswings awesome? Aren’t they? Eddie Izzard has a discourse on the gross overuse of that word, citing in particular how “awesome” an event like the lunar landing was versus how “awesome” we’ll label our tasty hotdog. But bigger than the burden of an empty word is the burden of a word that bears extra sardonicism.
Spotty internet connection + scattered thoughts = very little blogging activity.
I have read several posts that my slow and stubborn interwebs haven’t allowed me to comment on, and created many a draft this past week that haven’t made it past the cutting room floor.
Hopefully I’ll be able to articulate the happenings of my week soon enough. Everything is free-flowing liquid pictures in my mind; very little has congealed into words; like trying to describe a movie while it’s happening.
Guess I just need more time.