Why is it that when I finish a task, especially but not always physical tasks, I want to reward myself with food? It must be the way I was raised. Not throwing blame, just looking to understand, as always. I must ask Why...I went to a college where I was taught that is the most important question to ask, but I was asking it long before I reached age 17.
Case in point, I finished mowing the lawn, and what did I want? Here it is:
Yup. But I didn't get it. No big deal. But I do feel blue this week. Unmotivated. And not PMSing.My date on Tuesday? Seems so long ago I almost don't remember.
He needs a name, and although the date went well, sparks at the kiss and all, the only name I can think of for him at the moment is "Talks a Lot About Himself." Which isn't fair, because that makes him sound completely bad. But he does talk a lot about himself, and I'm doing my best to listen. But something tells me if I'm already finding it a struggle, that's not a good thing.
I'm going to call him Velvet Voice, just for giggles. He does have a voice people would pay money to listen to, which you would think would help with all the listening I have been doing. If only he had a European accent as well, I'd be a goner.
Velvet Voice and I are going to play pool on Saturday. I should be able to get to know even more about his personality then. Good litmus test.
Oh and Classy Guy, is apparently all done watching international soccer for the moment, long enough to call me to say hello to my voicemail. Although he made me laugh a lot on our first date, the dismissing of our second date bothers me still, so I'm pretending my crackberry doesn't take calls. Is that cruel?
The replacement Curve 8310 better be in my hands today.
I have no reason to be feeling like such a bitch. Except maybe, well, my 40th birthday - I mean, my Forever 39 Day - is 5 months away. Hence the ticking countdown clock I've added to the blog. Can't find a prettier one. If anyone can help find a better countdown clock, the date is 12/12.
And I'm not going to Italy, I'm not going to Ireland. And I'm not getting any thinner, so perhaps it is good I'm not going where European men would pretend to lust after me. Despite the shrinking shoe size and pants size and people telling me how great I look and asking how much weight I've lost, the bloody scale is not moving. I refuse to post a number until it moves. Just so tired of the process.
It is Friday. And Michael Jackson is dead. And so is Farrah Fawcett. Two childhood icons. And so many other people in the world are dying needlessly as I type this.
"If you want to make the world a better place,
take a look in the mirror and make a change...."
(Man in the Mirror, Michael Jackson)
Indeed.
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Wednesday, June 24
Life Fitness Treadmill
Standing heart rate: 82
Average heart rate: 138
Max heart rate: 155
Workout mode: CARDIO mode HR 150@ 2.6 mph
Calories: 400 Distance: 1.30 Time: 35:00
Note: Back to the gym. Struggling to find meaning. And drive. And purpose.
1 comment:
"if I'm already finding it a struggle, that's not a good thing"
Yup. It's probably not going to get better. At least that's always been my experience. But maybe he was just nervous. Have fun playing pool!
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