I'm mostly settled into the apartment now. Even though I threw away so many old, dirty, and broken things, I still feel like I brought too much with me. The guest room is where I'm currently storing piles of miscellaneous items, and I've somehow squeezed dozens of knickknacks into the kitchen. I only brought four pieces of furniture: the piano, the chest of sheet music, the kitchen table, and a small couch. Everything fits, but I catch myself longing for the more sparse version of the apartment, like when none of my crap was there yet.
The semester is wrapping up, or winding down, or however else it can be said. I'm in good position to finish all my projects, but I'm paying a price for my diligence: I can't sleep. I get up, go to school, go home, work work work, watch junk on Hulu, and go to bed. Physically, I'm not tired, even though my mind is. My sleep is not deep and I wake up at every sound, which is not usually the case. I don't feel particularly stressed, but there is something that's bothering me and it's not the first time I've had this complaint.
In the last three years, I've done everything right. I've gone back to school, I've focused, I've quit smoking, I've pared down my lifestyle, I'm careful with money. I'm clean, I'm responsible, I'm resourceful, I'm helpful and studious and friendly and caring. I eat well, with more fruits and vegetables than ever before in my life. I have the best boyfriend ever, who makes me laugh uncontrollably and is just as ridiculous as I am. I found a loving home for my cats and, in effect, cut my monthly costs by 30% simply because I no longer have pets. I literally have never been happier. So, what's the problem? My waistline.
It would seem to me that if everything else is going so well, I should naturally begin to shed some pounds. My weight has always been a problem (read: I've never felt good about it), but frankly, it's been a side effect of everything else that has always been wrong. Why now, with my ducks in a row, is this still taunting me? I've never been trained, formally, on how to take care of myself in that way. When I go to the gym, all I want to do is mess around with weights. That's what I know. I have a secret desire to be a runner but with thighs this thick, running isn't practical.
Occasionally I'll pull up pictures of Skinny Me. I pretend that I never want to be that skinny again, but between you and me, that's not the case. I want to be healthy. I want to lay on my side and not use my gut for leverage. I want to lean back and stretch in the morning and not feel the creases around my ribs. If I were to start losing weight, my arms and legs would follow suit, I'm sure -- but it's really my mid-section that is so out of proportion. I'd like to be able to go shopping for jeans and not have to choose between buying jeans that fit my legs versus jeans that fit my ass.
How do I jumpstart this? How can I tackle this one remaining hurdle in my life? Where do I go for guidance, and how do I make myself believe I can actually do it? I'm balanced precariously on the edge: if I fall in one direction, I'll be thick for the rest of my life; if I fall in the other, I can find the motivation and support that I need to make a change. I'm hoping for the latter.
The semester is wrapping up, or winding down, or however else it can be said. I'm in good position to finish all my projects, but I'm paying a price for my diligence: I can't sleep. I get up, go to school, go home, work work work, watch junk on Hulu, and go to bed. Physically, I'm not tired, even though my mind is. My sleep is not deep and I wake up at every sound, which is not usually the case. I don't feel particularly stressed, but there is something that's bothering me and it's not the first time I've had this complaint.
In the last three years, I've done everything right. I've gone back to school, I've focused, I've quit smoking, I've pared down my lifestyle, I'm careful with money. I'm clean, I'm responsible, I'm resourceful, I'm helpful and studious and friendly and caring. I eat well, with more fruits and vegetables than ever before in my life. I have the best boyfriend ever, who makes me laugh uncontrollably and is just as ridiculous as I am. I found a loving home for my cats and, in effect, cut my monthly costs by 30% simply because I no longer have pets. I literally have never been happier. So, what's the problem? My waistline.
It would seem to me that if everything else is going so well, I should naturally begin to shed some pounds. My weight has always been a problem (read: I've never felt good about it), but frankly, it's been a side effect of everything else that has always been wrong. Why now, with my ducks in a row, is this still taunting me? I've never been trained, formally, on how to take care of myself in that way. When I go to the gym, all I want to do is mess around with weights. That's what I know. I have a secret desire to be a runner but with thighs this thick, running isn't practical.
Occasionally I'll pull up pictures of Skinny Me. I pretend that I never want to be that skinny again, but between you and me, that's not the case. I want to be healthy. I want to lay on my side and not use my gut for leverage. I want to lean back and stretch in the morning and not feel the creases around my ribs. If I were to start losing weight, my arms and legs would follow suit, I'm sure -- but it's really my mid-section that is so out of proportion. I'd like to be able to go shopping for jeans and not have to choose between buying jeans that fit my legs versus jeans that fit my ass.
How do I jumpstart this? How can I tackle this one remaining hurdle in my life? Where do I go for guidance, and how do I make myself believe I can actually do it? I'm balanced precariously on the edge: if I fall in one direction, I'll be thick for the rest of my life; if I fall in the other, I can find the motivation and support that I need to make a change. I'm hoping for the latter.
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