the 4-1-1

blargh.

that about sums up my mood right now. this morning i woke up to five text messages from my mom. the last one said "here's my credit card number to book a flight home." let the drama begin!

after a rough nite, my dad is stable. he had double bypass surgery last night. there was an episode of internal bleeding that the docs couldn't stop for a little while. it was likely due to all the blood thinners that my dad has been on since the stents were put in a few months ago. now he is in a drug-induced coma while the docs do a risk assessment - how much do they thicken his blood to help the healing and how thin do they have to keep it to avoid deep vein thrombosis or clotting. they're going to take him out of the coma this evening.

i ended up calling my little brother on the way to work. he lives on the east coast and i figured that he was in a later time zone than me, he had probably received the run down already that morning. he's not one to get very excitable and so i figured that he was a safe bet to get some straight up factual info from. it was nice to talk to him, but i could hear the weariness and fear in his voice.

when i finally did talk to my mom i asked how she was doing and she said, "well. i'm glad i'm by myself right now. i don't think i would be able to handle anyone stirring up drama or being hysterical right now." i am not kidding. those were her exact words. and yet, here she is sending cryptic text messages about coming home and complications with my dad's surgery. sending us camera pics of his unconscious body tangled up with tubes and gauze and monitoring machines. spinning all the rest of us up.

i decided to go home. i'm going to try to find a flight this evening and stay for the weekend. i keep waffling back and forth between should i go? maybe i shouldn't go? i keep trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. my guy said "follow your heart". i can't tell the difference between what my head is telling me and what my heart is feeling. i want to retreat. retreat! retreat!! i want to go to sleep through this whole ordeal. i don't want to deal with it. i don't want to be around my dad in his current condition and the rest of my family because i know i'll want to cry, but i don't want to be vulnerable in front of them. i'm scared that they'll ridicule and make light of my feelings, that they'll turn my tears into a jokey punchline. none of my family knows how to respect grief. none of my family knows how to just sit and listen. none of my family knows how to be gentle and careful with tender emotions.

last night when i was ready to break, i thought i wanted to be alone. i didn't even want my guy around to see me all weepy and teary about this. i realize that what i wanted was to be able to cry openly, to be free to be scared, to have whatever emotions that were coming up and out of me just BE. i realize that i shied away from my guy because i didn't want to be offered a solution or encouragement. i didn't want to have to talk about it. i didn't want my emotional turmoil to be the center of attention. i just wanted to BE. i wasn't able to ask him to just be there with me. i didn't know that's what i needed. this is going to be the hardest part about going home - the inability to just be, whatever that may look like. i feel like i'll have to guard myself against the sideways jabs and funny barbs that my family tends to exchange in the face of grief. i'm worried that i'll have to compartmentalize and box up my feelings. i've worked really hard this past year to break those habits, to let it out before i eat it down.

what better way to try out my new coping skills than to go into the belly of the beast, though, eh?

scared

my mom called me first thing this morning. she said that my dad called 911 last night and went to the hospital due to heart issues. about two months ago he had angioplasty and 5 stents put into two arteries. he's been in cardio rehab since. my folks own a home in chicago and a little summer/holiday place on lake michigan an hour away. my mom happened to be at the lake house that night so my dad was all alone when it happened. she gave me the news this morning as she was driving back in a blizzard to be with my dad. she said he was fine, no heart trauma, they'll do another angiogram later in the morning to see if more angioplasty is needed. i cried quietly on the phone so she couldn't hear my tears. i didn't want anyone at work to know i was crying either. i called my dad immediately after getting off the phone with my mom. he sounded weak but brave. he sounded a little unsure and a little scared. when i hung up i started to eat. there were some mixed nuts in my drawer and a few chocolate truffles. i ate all the truffles and was putting away the nuts at an impressive pace. i felt numb. i was scared. i was too ashamed to let my fearful tears be seen or heard by my folks or by my coworkers.

soon after i got home from work my mom called to say there was a problem with one of the stents and that there was too much trauma to my dad's heart from the angioplasty. they have to do bypass surgery tonight. i wanted to break down. i want to sob. i want my dad to be safe and healthy. but my mom was being such a fucking drama queen. i'm angry with her. i don't feel safe when i talk to her. i feel like she's been spinning the situation out of control just so she can make me cry and then try to soothe me. i didn't give her the satisfaction of making me cry. soon after i got off the phone with her, my guy came home. i told him what was going on, but i still didn't cry.

an hour or so ago my mom called again and conferenced called my siblings in. she was pulling the same dramatics. i happened to make a salad right before she called so i put the phone on speaker and shoveled the salad in while she talked.

i feel a tightness in my chest that needs release. i want to stuff it down with food and drink. i want to be numb right now. i'm pissed that my mom can't behave like a normal, caring mother. i'm angry that i can't feel grief over my father's mortality. the tightness in my chest is causing pain. it's swelling. why do i feel like i can't let it out? why is it so goddamn hard to just let it erupt? i don't even want to let my guy see me cry right now.

i'm scared. i'm angry. i feel helpless. i'm sure everything with my dad will be fine. bypass surgery these days is fairly routine with great odds of success and recovery. he's at one of the best hospitals in the country. he's in good health (besides the heart). he's relatively young. he'll be fine. but what if he dies? what if he doesn't make it? what if i never get to see him again?

i'm feeling a ton of animosity towards my mother right now, too. i know she's sad. i know she's hurting and scared but i fucking HATE how she goes about her emotional crises. every time i've talked to her today i feel like she's baiting me with an overly dramatic doom and gloom picture. when we were conference calling with my sibs she directed us, "now go have a good cry. then eat. or do whatever you need to do." DON'T FUCKING TELL ME HOW TO FEEL. DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO. christ i'm pissed. i wish she could have just calmly doled out the facts, asked us if we had any questions, asked us how we felt and told us that she was scared and sad herself. instead i got a bunch of theatrics and 'you're probably feeling like this and that... it's ok. but your dad looks exactly the way my dad did before he died of heart failure.' seriously? no. i don't need the dramatic punctuation. instead of acting like the glue that binds us together, instead of soothing us with her own come from, she's spinning us all up like fucking whirling dervishes - trying to see how much dirt she can kick up, trying to see just how frenetic she can get us.

the tears are coming now. hot, moody tears of release. now i'm worried that my guy will wander into the office while i'm sitting here, furiously typing and quietly crying. i don't want him to see me like this. it feels too vulnerable. i feel like this is too raw... like i have to mete out my emotions in front of him on this one. this sucks. i'm not ready to deal with the death of a parent. i'm sure my dad will be just fine. but still... i'm unaccustomed to letting the grief in. i'm not comfortable with letting it have time and space in my heart and head. i'm comfortable with finding my way to the bottom of an oreo bag.

whew.

i feel quite a bit better for having gotten all of this out. i feel exhausted now and my eyes are swollen and heavy from crying. my chest feels a little less tight. i don't feel the psychotic compulsion to sneak attack the kitchen cupboards. i think i'm going to wander off to bed and maybe cry into my pillows a little more...

a change of clothes

my sister just left after a week of staying with me. we had a delightful time but after so many days in hostess mode, i'm spent! my whole life was on hold the entire time she was here and now it's time to get back on track.

i was anxiously awaiting her arrival. i always have a good time with my sister. ours is a tight bond, forged in poop jokes and silly repetitive word play and lots and lots of laughter. i planned a lot of activities for us and we had fun, but i couldn't help but feel pangs of something 'missing' for the entire duration of her stay.

yesterday, we woke before the crack of dawn and got her on her merry way back to school. once she was gone i was left to bob in the wake of an emotional sea churned up by her presence.

when i finally got home last night, i was struck by the onslaught of pensive thought that wedged itself between me and an early bedtime. i mulled over the slightly 'off' feeling that punctuated the visit with my sister. it wasn't negative or resentful - i didn't have a bad time with her. it was more... sadness... or grief... or perhaps just a somber flatness. i don't really know how to label this feeling... it was different... but not new, either.

this same feeling occurred the last time i went back to chicago for a quick visit. i was so excited to see my girlfriends, to spend an evening bearing witness to each other's stories, to reconnect, to just bask in the warmhearted goodness between good friends. the night fell short of my concocted fantasy even though it was full of goodwill and merriment, but it was definitely... different. there was a palpable change that had taken place between all of us and i wasn't prepared for it. the intimacy that comes with being in physical proximity was gone. the inside jokes and banter about the minutiae of jobs and partners and daily life was foreign to me. i had missed much being away for 7 months.

so when my sister's visit brought up the same feelings inside of me, i was thrown. i mean, this is MY SISTER. there is no changing here! this is sacred space. this is familiar space. this is the root of me. how can our relationship feel different?

at first i thought it might have been all on her. i mean she is in the midst of some major life changing stuff. she's graduating from her undergraduate studies in june and immediately shuffling off to grad school. she hasn't decided which offer to accept yet for her higher learning. she's preparing to sell her condo upon graduating this summer, move to a new city, start anew. i know the turmoil that all of these things can cause so my first instinct was to project my own troubled feelings onto her. maybe she did bring her baggage on vacation with her, but i know better than to pass the buck for my feelings. i'm feeling the way i am because something is going on inside of me... not because something may or may not be going on with my sis.

then i thought it might have to do with the living arrangements while she was here... in our small place...which is good enough for two but too small for three. i am a creature of habit. and boundaries. the environment in which i grew up knew no boundaries and many of my family members (e.g. my loveable sissy sister) still operate wtihout boundaries. maybe this was the cause of my discontent... my sister camped out on the couch, being ever present in my space. my lack of privacy, quiet time, me time. hmmm. no. this isn't it, either.

perhaps my lingering flatness was due to my tendancies to resort to old/unhealty patterns when i'm around my family? not only did i excuse myself from eating healthy, but i kind of went tits up in the other direction. we subsisted on a steady stream of cheesy poofs, peanut m&ms, and dining out while my sister was here. by the end of her visit, i had perpetual sour stomach and my sugar crash felt something akin to heroin withdrawl. my poor body was wrecked and crying out for leafy greens. i couldn't wait to get back to my routine, to the mandatory, plain fare of cottage cheese and carrot sticks. maybe the lost feeling could be attributed to my lack of willpower and my giving over to the dark side, having a food free-for-all for the past few days. this might be it, but still... just doesn't feel like the right answer.

one afternoon we wandered over to melrose ave where we toured a flea market and walked up and down the never-ending stretch of bohemian vendors and vintage clothing stores. the first time i visited los angeles was an exciting one. without ever having been, at some point in my life i developed a fairly negative bias towards the town. imagine my surprise to find that not only was my unwarranted opinion wrong, but i delighted in los angeles once i got a taste of it. i drank in the weather, the energetic buzz of the city, the amazing, kitschy shopping. in one weekend i fell in love with the artsyness, the hunger, the boldness of this town and just KNEW that i had to live here. that was four years ago. until my sis came for a visit, i hadn't really retraced the steps i took those short years ago. so when the opportunity arose, i was giddy with the prospect of revisiting melrose, wistfully remembering the treasures i found there, eager to show my sister how cool the area was. once we started walking around though, i was numb with the realization that none of it - not the colorful store fronts, not the wacky styles, not the incense-scented air - NONE OF IT was appealing to me anymore. we wandered into a hip little used clothes joint where so many years ago i found a veronique branquinho dress for less than $20, a loop guitar-shaped shoulder bag, and sparkly slippers - treasures of immeasurable happiness! instead of feeling the thrill of the hunt rush through me in undulating waves of exquisite shopping excitement, i felt grodytothemax as i dodged rows of used shoes and shimmied past size 00 club wear. i turned to my guy moments after walking in the door. "i think i've outgrown this place," i said with a twinge of sadness. he gave a slow, knowing nod while looking around the store, "yep. we really have. the thought of wearing any of this shit kind of gives me the creeps." i was crestfallen. crushed. instead of celebrating my adulthood, i grieved for lost adolescence. i padded back to the car feeling stunned. when did i get old? shit! is this midlife crisis?

surely this epiphany must be the source of my discontent? and yet... no.

then what is the cause of this weird, unsettled feeling? and what exactly is the feeling?

after having my space and routine back, and after kicking the question around for a day, i think i know what's going on. and it is new for me. it is different and foreign and therefore unsettling. i am coming into adulthood and i am coming into self. instead of seeking self definition from external stimulus that comes from a full social calendar full of dates with friends and family, i am now looking inward. i am looking inside myself to define myself. i am in process. i am feeling this adulthood/womanhood/self love thing out. i am trying it on, seeing how it fits. this phase i'm in is a new article of clothing - something i know i want, but that i've never seen before. i have an idea of how i'm supposed to wear it, but i'm still pulling it on over my head, figuring out where my arms can stretch through it, letting it settle naturally on my curves.

as i gaze inward, i see things coming into focus. i recognize that the past few months of engaging my body in a loving way is the result of quiet reflection and internal work. because i don't have all of the social dates and family gatherings and other 'stuff' that required my attention in chicago, i've been able to spend quality time with my self. alone time. belly time. this revelation frees me from feeling resentful towards los angeles and my temporary life here. this realization allows me to feel grateful for this time in my life. it eases the pain of missing my girlfriends and my family. i kind of feel like celebrating now! this IS an exciting time in my life. but it is quiet excitement, peaceful celebration. no fanfare necessary. just simple knowing feels good.

the visit with my sister helped me pull up and out and take a look from a different angle. thank you, sissy sister. thank you for holding a mirror up to me. i think i like what i see. it's definitely different, but it feels... right.

to kiss off or not to kiss off

i've been thinking about breaking up with weight watchers lately... mostly because i found that sparkpeople.com offers the same thing... for free...

a couple of posts ago, i wrote about how distraught i was with my slow weight loss pace. i made light of my loss and wrote it off as not being a REAL, serious weight reduction, but the normal weight fluctuation that every body experiences. how could i be so cruel to myself? self, i'm so sorry to deny you all of your efforts and hard work. as you well know, i can be... a little testy... sometimes...

so imagine my delighted surprise when i discovered a feature on w.w. online that i haven't previously played around with - the weight tracker graph. my interaction with weight watchers online is extremely limited. i log my food, my exercise and my weight. that's it. i don't dig around in the recipes, i don't care what the w.w. bloggers have to say. i don't tool around in the other features of the site. i don't feel any connection to the company or to the community - i just want a place to log my food, a place to be accountable for every single thing i eat - and this online offering seems to be palatable enough for me to keep up with.

i happened to come upon this additional feature when i was logging in my weekly weight . i noticed an option to view my weight loss in a graph... what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a distinct downward trending line signifying less rear!! from my start weight to my current weight, it was undeniable... this here was scientific proof that my loss is real. it's taken a goddamn long ass time to get 8 pounds down, but it's a real loss!

after such a lovely revelation, maybe i should rethink the idea of giving weight watchers the old heave ho... maybe i'll stick with it a little longer... after all, it's cheap ($17/mo), it's non-intrusive, it allows me to keep my pace, i'm familiar with it... and yet, after joining sparkpeople.com, i realized that they offer all of the things i liked about w.w... but in a slightly different presentation. sparkpeeps suggest a daily calorie plan, not the hokey "points" artifice invented by some corporate shill in the corner office at w.w. i found that after a couple of days logging my food at spark, looking at caloric intake makes the weight loss process a little more 'real' in my mind. tracking my activity throughout the week by minutes worked out or miles moved is way more satisfying than knowing i worked towards 2 or 3 lame ass points.

so why do i stay with w.w.? nothing about weight watchers makes me feel warm and fuzzy. the company feels canned, pandering, a tiny bit... malevolent. i have no real facts to base this bias on other than my limited experience with them a few years ago. they're pretty harmless. the online option is a great way to forgo the bullshit that i imagine i would encounter at the meetings. and yet, i truly dislike weight watchers. the company is like that off-putting chemical-tinged aftertaste that comes from one of their low points novelty ice creams... there's something that's just a bit... off... about weight watchers. (slightly off topic, but is it just me or is it totally humiliating to purchase their packaged food? i hate that all of their products are smothered in large point, large font branding that screams THIS IS A WEIGHT WATCHERS ITEM. which is really code for THIS IS A FATTY BUYING FAKE JUNK FOOD BECAUSE FATTY IS WATCHING HER WEIGHT.)

i don't know. maybe i'll leave 'em in the dust. maybe i won't. i must admit that for all my attitude towards them, they have brought me further in my weight loss journey than any other diet or plan before... they keep me accountable. they show me how much progress i've made in nifty little charts. they offer a variety of low point delectables that, although probably full of plastic and carcinogens, satisfy sugar cravings (if you eat like 30 of them:).

hmmm... after rereading that last paragraph i realize that i give w.w. too much credit... they haven't brought me this far, they don't keep me accountable... I've been doing all the work here... weight watchers online has merely been the vehicle to help me get to where i am.

perhaps it is time to trade in that old vehicle for a new one... so long as i stay on the road to weight loss and a healthy relationship with food. i think i'm ready to take my training wheels off, to quit disguising my calories as 'points'. i think i'm ready for change.

hurts so good

i've walked through this day with pain pulsing in my bod from head to toe - and i've been loving every minute of it! not because i'm a sick bastard (well, maybe just a little) but because the pain is a direct result of necessary care of my self.

the head pain is relegated to my tooth and gums. i finally went to the dentist. last week i showed up, knees knocking and brave face firmly in place. scared not so much of the dentist or of her medieval array of sharp metal torture devices, but more so by the fact that i might be too fat for the chair. all of my previous nightmares instantly dissipated once i sat down on the big, sturdy, industrial chair. the instruments and lights didn't clatter or shake with my every movement. i had plenty of room in the chair and didn't feel at all like my hips and husks were oozing out over the sides. i was so comfortable, in fact, that i completely forgot about my neurosis once the dentist started cleaning my teeth. piece of cake!

today i went back for round two. i knew that this session was going to be a little more intense, but i wasn't carrying the burden of fear that escorted me to my first session. yes, my gums feel like they were taken into the alley and beat to a pulp, but the long term effects of the work done far outweigh the temporary pain of today.

the toe pain manifested itself in the shape of a huge blister resulting from an ass-kicking three mile walk yesterday. the walk nearly killed my poor pup-peroni and left me hobbling around the house all evening, but DAYUM did it feel good! i'm proud of my blister! it screams, "hell yeah i'm a power walker! a THREE MILE power walker!" ...of course it also screams with pain... but i choose to revel in the excitement and lasting high of accomplishing something really good for my body, rather than whimper about my blister (of which i also took loving care).

so i'm feeling really good today. i can't wait to get back outside for another walk! i can't wait for next weekend to add another mile to my half marathon training! i'm excited and full of hope... and loving every throbbing moment!

my body is a temple, or, i ain't no mobile home

it was only recently that i felt like we have FINALLY settled into our 'new' apartment. there are no more visible cardboard boxes signifying our transitory status. there is organization and order in all the rooms. images and art are hung instead of heaped against an out-of-the-way wall waiting to be displayed. it took a little more than a year, but i finally feel completely moved in.

the funny thing is that everything in los angeles still feels so new... or maybe it feels more like impermanence?? yes, that's it. there exists this pervasive temporary feeling that still nags the back of my mind, even after a year. at first i thought the feeling stemmed from knowledge of an impending home purchase in the near future. there are no firm plans right this moment, but buying a house and getting out of apartment life is one of those big goals on the horizon. but this ephemeral sense is rooted deeper: my guy and i don't plan stay in los angeles forever. but when we left the comfort of chicago, we didn't think further than 'hey! let's move to l.a.!'

...and then what?

this seems to be the question that keeps me calling my apartment new, that allows me to consider myself as having 'just' moved here, that makes me feel nonplussed about this town and its inhabitants. signing the lease for another year is probably a good indication that i should probably drop the 'new'.

i've been thinking about how i live with 'temporary', how it feels to view my life as 'temporary', how it feels to know that my current job isn't permanent, that my apartment is not truly my space, that this town does not engender a sense of belonging within me. temporary does not feel like mine.

when i think of my home in chicago, i am overwhelmed with nostalgia, with a fondness for a city rich with culture, intellect, savvy. i think of the beauty of the seasons: bitter and unforgiving in the winter, delicate and innocent in the spring. i think of the home i owned for a decade, the modifications and renovations that i did with my own hands. i think of my truly amazing girlfriends, who inspire me, who challenge me, who accept me as i am. i think of my dysfunctional, lovable family. my heart swells with pride when i think about 'home'.

pride.

i recently read that the body usually fluctuates between three and five pounds from its normal weight. what an unexpected, harsh slap in my face this bit of trivia was. three to five pounds is what i have been dancing around with for the past three months, fooling myself that "it's" working! i am down 2 lbs! up 1:( down 1.5lbs!! up 4lbs.

what the fuck am i doing?? i'm not committed to dieting. i'm not sticking to the plan. i've been foo-fahing around with weight watchers online, dancing around a nice, neat structured system and telling myself, genuinely SELLING myself on the idea that i'm doing this! i'm really in it to win it!! i'm full of shit. i'm starting to think that a smart slap is exactly what i need to help me snap out of it.

as i examine the myriad of excuses, of broken systems that i live by, as i poke around my inner workings, i am drawn to this idea of permanence and sense of pride. i realize that right now, right this very moment, my relationship with my body feels temporary. one day my body and mind are buddy-ole-pals and the next day, my mind is leaving my body in the dust. for a week or two, i feel centered, whole. i am conscious of how my body feels, if it's hungry, if it wants exercise and i lovingly attend to its needs. in one afternoon, this groovy symbiosis is dashed on the jagged rocks of too many drinks and late nite greasy food. my relationship with my body feels temporary. my body does not feel like mine and therefore, i am excused from taking care of it.

i need this to change. i need to feel like my mind and body are engaged in a permanent and exclusive relationship. i need to know with every fiber of my being that my body is my temple. i need to know that regardless of the impermanent state of external forces in my life, my relationship with my body is constant. i need to feel proud of my body. i need to feel like i belong to my body, like it's my beloved home.

so here's what i've come up with so far:
change is good
change is necessary
my constant, my permanent lies within me
my body is permanent
my relationship with my body is permanent
i can endure change because i can always rely on my body

...and then what?

i'm not really sure. i don't know what comes next.
hard work? ok. but what does that work look like?
self love? yeah. that sounds great. how do i do it?
awareness? mindfulness? self respect? yes. yes. and yes. sign me up!
what? no instruction manual?!?

Body, i guess it's you and me, kid. we're gonna have to figure this out together. are you in this with me? are we in this to win this?

yes.

back in the saddle again

the temperature on the dash read 77 as i made my way home this evening. i rolled down the windows and enjoyed the breeze playing on my skin and in my hair. i kicked my shoes off and drove barefoot. the sun was low in the sky, causing me to squint for the entirety of the drive, but i thoroughly enjoyed the daylight.

i can feel a perceptible shift in myself. back to normal. the last bout of pms or post-ms was a doozy. my face is still recovering from the recent hormonal havoc - i have to make a conscious effort not to pick the shit out of welts that sprouted, red and irritated, in the past couple of weeks. i often think about whether or not such severe emotional tree-swinging is normal. it reminds me of my mom and her bi-polar-esque switching from maniacal happiness to ferocious anger. i fear becoming my mother... and yet i take solace in the fact that she's always been batshitcrazy... all the while i was growing up, all during my young adulthood, and before, during and after menopause.

my food situation was also completely tore up the last couple of weeks. i was primarily craving meat, fat and salt... i'd like to excuse the cravings with some scientific bit about my body building stores before it shed iron or other minerals, but i know i the truth... the truth is, i just gave up. i didn't bust out the willpower when i needed to. i let the "it's too hard" excuse drive me. i'm not going to beat myself up about it. the scale is 1.5 pounds up, but i am myself again. i'm quiet enough to hear my body and level-headed enough to respond with what it needs. tonight it needs leafy greens... a nice big, fresh salad with chickpeas and feta and a few black olives.... and then a nice long walk. this is what my body is asking for this evening and this is what i will give to it.

it feels good to be back in the saddle. i think i've got about six more days of this mellow, even-keeled mentality before the pms crazies kick in again... hey, i'll take whatever i can get!

week 5 goal check in

week 5 goal: log 3 miles this past weekend. goal accomplished... and it felt really effing good! managed to get out for two 2 mile walks - one on saturday and one on sunday. the weather was fantastic and the pupperoni loved the walks. all of the recent outdoor activity is doing all of us good - my pooch is now down 6 pounds and back to a normal weight... now if only i can do that for myself:)

week 6 goal: log 4 miles

it's enough

today has been a busy day - one of those days that swallow you up and carry you along and before you know it, lunchtime is nearly over, and you know that if you don't break now, the remaining abysmal amount of work will lose you in its depths for all eternity or the rest of the day, whichever comes first. these are the days i'm grateful that i keep a cache of nuts, cereal bars, healthy-but-tasteless soups in cups in an office drawer.

i wandered down to the kitchen with a change purse full of promise and that boring old cup of soup. i was looking to the vending machines for salvation from the day, from the never-ending needs of my co-workers, from the daunting task list that loomed large and ever-present at my desk. i stood hopeful in front of the food dispenser, leering at the imprisoned junk food, clanking the change in my cupped fist, delighting in those moments of want before the want is sated. my sights landed on the doritos. crisp, red bag, full of radioactive-orange crunchy yumminess...

i deposited a quarter. CLANK. it defiantly popped out of the change return. i tried again, with more determination. CLANK. no luck. the machine was broken.

fucker!FUCK-ERRRRRR!

this soup just simply will NOT be enough!!

i returned to my lair, defeated and uninspired by my meager afternoon sustenance. back at my desk and in just as foul a mood as ever, i burned my tongue on the first bite and could feel my disappointment and anger surface.

i got lost in the tappa-tappa-tappa of sending veryimportantemails while waiting for the soup to cool... a bite here, a bite there... soon the soup was gone, my midday respite over, and i needed to open my office door and let the demanding world back in.

but herein lies the beauty of the afternoon: that small, not as tasteless as i thought, 150 calorie cupofsoup was enough. i was no longer hungry and i no longer needed a hit of junk food. it was enough.

i know there's a lesson somewhere in here for me, but truth be told, i'm too wiped out to seek it out. for now, i'll just appreciate the bounty of one small, seemingly insignificant cup of soup.

mean

once again i find myself lost at sea, violently tossed about in the maelstrom of my own hormones. i am impish and mischievous. i am delicate and fragile. i am full of rage and malevolence. my breasts are gigantic tender fun bags that cause my back to ache. my face is a map of the stars. differing moods whips through me, ravaging my emotional sensibility. i have no tolerance for anyone, even myself. i am quick to take offense and tears come as easily and as involuntary as breath into my lungs.

i have no patience. i unceremoniously jerk my clothes on, jab at my face with make-up sponges. my words are cruel and slash forth in a venomous spray of spittle. my body strains at the seams of clothes that normally fit. it makes me angry and i want to rip them to shreds. even my own skin feels like its straining at the expanse of my innards. i am uncomfortable. i am mean. i am angry. i am scary.

gimme a minute... just one... i can feel the tears starting to prick at my eyes. the next mood will be here soon... and all this mean talk will be gone just as soon as it washed in.

week 4 goal check in

week 1: record all food intake. result: not so good. at all.

week 2: stay withing point limit. result: i have no clue b/c my food log went out the window
week 3: make dentist appt and optometrist appt. result: optometrist not only booked, but the appt is behind me! woo hoo! dentist appt finally booked!!
week 4: research (and possibly commit to) half marathon. result: found a plan that would have me in half marathon shape in 17 weeks - that's WELL before the end of the year. woo hoooo!

week 5 goal: log 3 miles this coming weekend

i am totally off the bandwagon right now. i've fallen right smack dab into a thick, clingy puddle of i-just-don't-give-a-shit. i know it will pass. but for right now, i'm not going to deny it - there is a very big part of me that is just tired of all the stick-to-it-uveness. i'm feeling a little overwhelmed and put upon by myself!! i suspect that most of this defeatist attitude is due to a hellacious bout of the hormonal bitch slap... maybe one of my next goals can be to look into big game tranquilizers for myself... you know, just to get me through those particularly rough pre/post/menstrual days.:)