That moment when you decide that you just can’t sleep so you get up at 4:40 a.m. on a Monday morning to write morning pages, that moment is now.
I need to face some harsh truths. My life needs to change. I count my calories. I count my steps. It seems like I have been doing this forever but I realize,and I’ve known for some time now, that I don’t do anything to alter these numbers. I just live my life documenting every morsel of food that I eat and every step I take for no apparent reason. That’s normal, right?
I mean why would I go to the trouble of putting in so much energy, of making counting calories in and calories out a thing and still not even benefit from it or learn from it, you know? It’s like I’m punishing myself by documenting all of my failures. That’s all Ive been doing for years. Today I’m going to start using that information to reach my goals. It’s going to be weird.
I have a lot of pressure on today. So perhaps a little early morning self reflection is just what the doctor ordered. A few times over the weekend including just before I went to bed last night, I thought I should write out everything in my head regarding the changes I’ve decided to make in myself starting today. That way I can see how unreasonable I am being.
Today is supposed to be the first day of the rest of my life. Yesterday was the last day of the first my life. I engaged in basically every form of overindulgence that I enjoy this weekend. Namely eating too much, drinking too much, and shopping way, way too much.
I am so bloated (I hope) or I’ve gained so much weight these last few weeks (probably the more likely scenario). Either way, I tried my hardest to create a false bottom for myself. I tried to shake off my bad behaviors by reinforcing them. Even though that never actually seems to works. Hmm. It’s just an excuse to scratch all my itches before hopefully learning to ignore them.
I am always very good at “the last day” part of a lifestyle change. Now here comes the part that I’m not good at, follow through. Oh sure, I’ll probably get through the first day pretty easily, maybe the second and even the third day I will be fine. But then I will get sick of feeling proud of myself and promptly self destruct. So let’s get this down for prosperity.
- Bring breakfast to work everyday
- Drink a protein shake for lunch ( eat out no more than once a week)
- 10,000 steps a day average
- Gym three times a week at least
- Buy nothing except groceries and needed items for the house, such as storage solutions for all the crap I already bought and decorations.
- Eat healthfully at least 80% of the time.
- No Coca-Cola (could give me skin tags)
- No alcohol (will give me fat face)
- Average less than 1,600 calories a day
- Write three query letters a week until I start getting jobs.
- Write three blog posts a week
- Research and write articles for submission (Do research at work. Your search history will just make you look shallow not like you’re working on other projects while at work.)
- Take vitamins
- Stop being afraid of ending lists on the number 13
- Enjoy having a happy marriage
- Do things to show myself love in a healthy way, like learning more about makeup and skin care or getting a massage. Take time out for myself where I’m not doing something positive and not self destructive.
So that’s enough for now. Basically loving myself and believing in myself is in. Sabotaging and spoiling myself is out. I need to parent myself. I need to learn to tell myself no. No more fucking around. No more acting like a brat who has to do what she wants all the time. I’m in my thirties, for God sake.
I’ve had the same goals since I was in elementary school; write a book and be fabulous. I remember being seven or eight and learning that a girl my age had written a book about Appaloosa horses. I remember being jealous because I wanted to have already written a book, too. I remember telling myself that I was young and I had plenty of time to succeed. I was right at the time. I was eight. I am considerably older now. It’s time to put the pressure on. I know I can do it. I’m just scared that maybe I can’t. Or, worse yet, that I won’t like it. Then I don’t know what I’ll do.
I don’t like my job now and it has everything I ever thought I wanted in a job, including two or three foster moms. As it turns out, I don’t like it. It makes me crazy. It makes me want to do crazy things just to have some happiness in my day like buy copious amounts of makeup and clothing and binge eat pizza and Chinese food on my lunch breaks. That’s what I used to have to do to be happy but I don’t have to do that anymore. I could just be happy. My life is good. It just needs these few tweeks.
And girl, my stomach is so bloated/ fat from over this last weekend. You don’t even know.
My husband is awake. I should go back to bed. If the situation was reversed, I would have went and found him and made him come back to bed. I’m not going to be upset that he didn’t do that to me because he acts differently than I do. He doesn’t broadcast every emotion he experiences and expect people to accommodate him the way that I do. He finds other, indirect ways. For example, he just spoke loudly to the dog and that’s his way of letting me know that he is up and that I should come back to bed, which I am presently ignoring because I think I’m doing such a good job of writing my mission statement here. I will go to bed soon.
So in summation, if I want to live forever, I am going to have to work at a few things. I’ve made a lot of progress this year but I’ve also been coasting for a while now. It’s time to next level this shit. I’m ready. I’m pumped. I have to go back to bed now. Before I go, I wanted to make an acronym. This is all I have so far.
Nothing. I have nothing so far. I thought I had some words to fill in but I forgot what they were. Give me a break it’s 5am. I’ll make one up at work today. I might make this a blog post. I’m going back to bed now.