Building Rome and Wiggling Toes

January 19, 2017

I am having a little difficulty adjusting to home.

I had these grand plans, was gonna get up early, drink all the water make all the money. Renounce Satan aka boys

Ya, that didn’t last.

I have had 3 glasses of water in 2 days, I got drunk last night and slept till 11am this morning.

That scene from Kill Bill is replaying in my head…

O-Ren Ishii: You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you?
The Bride: You know, for a second there, yeah, I kinda did.
O-Ren Ishii: Silly rabbit.
The Bride: Trix are…
O-Ren Ishii: …for kids.

O-Ren Ishii: Silly Caucasian girl likes to play with Samurai swords.

I did want to play with a sword. Cutting out the bad parts in my life like The Bride mowing down the Crazy 88’s.

She managed. I am still at the wiggle your big toe part of the journey. I am frustrated.

Knowing is half the battle apparently.
But I know a lot of things, some of them not so good and I am definitely at war.

Just with myself.

Panda wrote us a motivational board. First thing I saw when I walked in the door, and I already broke 2 of the resolutions. One within an hour.

I have pontificated at great length about how I coasted for 3 years on one vast leap of self-improvement.

I am bored of me saying it now.

Herein lies the problem.

I know, I know, I fucking know already.

But now what?

Well first things first I had to unpack and clean the house. Walk the dog and get my ass into work. Try not to drink and hustle my ass off.

I just talked to Panda and said “I am not Sephora level of financially comfortable yet. But we can go out for dinner. “ Money shit went sideways and like most people I know I am emulating Drake, or what he claimed to be doing which is ‘starting from the bottom’. Excited about the ‘now we here, now the whole team here’ part.

I just want to get there.

I know the journey is supposed to be a good thing unto itself, but it’s winter and it’s grey outside and I want to fly away.

But first I have to work work work work work.

I promised myself I would start looking after this body of mine and yet I just had a cigarette and have done zero squats.

I have never been a terribly patient person. I have avoided doing things because I want to be good at stuff I have never tried. Makes no sense, but for some weird reason I have a disconnect about the process. I look at girls who kill it on the pole and I want to be that way, but I forget that at some point in their lives they had no idea what it felt like to wrap their fingers around a tube of cold brass.

I didn’t make it to the gym yesterday. Woke up late and crampy, shoulda powered through but I didn’t.

I am postponing the inevitable inevitably.

I have got to stop.

I have never been to a gym before and I am intimidated. I know this. But a nice juicy peach butt is on the other side of my comfort zone.

I know it’s going to hurt but look at how many things I do on the daily that hurt me, mostly the boy thing.

I managed to do a couple things on my list and a few things that weren’t there but required immediate attention. Anyone else add those things to the original list just so they can get crossed off? I totally did that.

To be a little kind to myself, quitting boys is hard, they are my drug of choice and have been for 30 years.

It is shark week and body doesn’t always listen when that happens.

While we were away average bedtime was 11pm and up by 6 or 7, now I am rolling into work at 7pm so things are a little screwy.

I am alternately sipping water and coffee right now and the OPUS is open on my laptop at least.

Baby steps.

Rome wasn’t built in a day. Just because I have a late start doesn’t mean the whole day is lost. And the boys have been downgraded from boo to bootycalls. I am not going for sainthood here.

My friend Jeff has timers set for himself throughout the day. Labeled things like ‘drink water’, ‘eat’, ‘start writing’, ‘stop writing and get ready for work.’

I think it’s time to admit I need this.

I think it’s time to run.




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