Soo ooo Unmotivated

So I have all this time.

And I have a ton to do.

And I just can’t muster up the motivation to get it done.

Where the hell is the chocolate?

PS upfront: All those quotes are “supposed to be” in air quotes. Go with it.

Maybe the week of your period isn’t the best to start a “diet.” Wait…it’s not a diet. It’s a lifestyle. A “Live-it,” if you will.

Some days I can eat perfect. All “on plan” and stuff. Getting all my checkmarks for veggies and milks and all that.

Other days, though. It’s like I can’t get “satisfied.” Tried lots of water (ha, ha) to fill me up, tried protein in varying degrees–cottage cheese; avocado; and yes, even some peanut butter. Wait for it… on celery. Think of celery as an edible spoon. I do. Like chips as a vessel for the queso, celery is the vessel for the peanut butter. It was actually pretty good. The good, fatty PB all natural with the oil you have to stir in.

I know the first week is a lot of “detox,” where your body is getting used to you eating all healthy. It’s tough. And there are times it will be tough beyond this week. And maybe it’s just today. Maybe it’s the workouts the two days previous to this one. Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s me sitting around all day. (but I did work out today, so there!)

Whatever the case, I want something chocolaty. I mean, sorta.  I’m doing good. And I have the weekend to combat. I know all of you have been there before. … It’s like I just have to get through the night and I know tomorrow will be easier.

Brilliance

If you know me, you know I love trivia. And trivia games. Especially Jeopardy!.  So when I’m home at noon, I sometimes watch Millionaire.

Right now, there is a pure genius on. Pure.

So one of the first questions was something like, “Minus the thumb, what’s the best way to get a measure of your hand?” The choices were Hat, Glove, Shoes or Shirt. Or something like that. He had to freaking poll the audience!!

So, then as I’m starting this blog, the question of “Which best describes Bruce Willis’ character in the Die Hard movie?” In disguise, barefoot, and two others…. he had to use the 50/50. I mean, seriously, people.

I promise a more worth-while blog later, but I just had to share the good things I do when I’m not working. … I think I’ll go back to reading.

My Afternoon or, why I like to make things for other people

There’s more to post on it, but today I started my first sock-knitting lesson. I was supposed to do a class, but only 2 people signed up. I have such a care-free schedule right now, I was able to meet with the instructor (she’s got letters behind her name. Like TKGA or something–like certified knitting teacher or something!) one-on-one.

I’m glad I have the background that I do have. I’m able to knit and purl. I’m working on the ribbing right now. It’s tough. There’s 4 needles to work with at a time. It’s confusing figuring out where my hand go and where the yarn goes and where the needle I’m working with goes.

I’m not frustrated yet. I can only do like one row at a time before I have to take a rest. No, really. I switched to crochet during the movie because I can do that without watching much and it’s the same thing over and over.

I remember one time on a plane, I sat next to a woman (who was close to my age) who knitted socks. She looked out the window as she did it. She said it was easy for her now. I told her I was amazed by her knitting. By all the needles there, all poking out and stuff. … I pulled out my crocheting and she said she was amazed I could do that with only one hooky thing!

She was making the socks for her husband who was stationed overseas. She talked about how awesome it was to make socks for someone. How each stitch is made especially for one person. She said how great home-made socks were. I’ve never had a pair–but I will soon!

Anyway, it was then that I decided it was so powerful to make something for someone. How that person was thought of during each step of the process. (Now, granted, I’m crocheting a baby blanket right now. It’s blue. So one of you people have a boy, kay?) I think that that is just such an awesome thing.

Apologies already because each stitch of these mauve-ish socks are being made for me, me, me!  But for my next pair*, it will be something special.
*Wait. … I have to make two of these things?!

My morning

Okay, so really my morning started out very lazy. But I’ve got a lot of stuff to do today, including important stuff like watching a movie with AG-T and trying to finish my book and cleaning the kitchen.

I pulled out my Cardio Jam today. I didn’t do the one shown here, but to give you an idea, I did Mix 1 like this:

And believe me, I looked way cool doing it! For real, yo.

I also burned 416 calories, so that’s pretty sweet.

It’s been awhile since I did something. I was doing so well with the “working out thing,” but the end of school and the start of summer made it hard to stick with it. I’ve been to the gym a handful of times since school got out and it’s been hard each time.

This was hard at times, too. Charlene told us that our energy comes from our head, though, so I stuck with it. I’m glad I did it. I’m on my way to starting to get back on track!

Three? or was it four?

While I read last night, I got up twice to go to the bathroom.

Then once or twice during the night.

Rest assured, I’m drinking my water requirement. (and, no, not WAY over it, either!)

Lovesong

In case you’re wondering where my blog name comes from, it’s from one of my favorite poems:

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero, Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo. LET us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats 5 Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10 Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” Let us go and make our visit. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15 The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20 And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep. And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25 There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30 Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go 35 Talking of Michelangelo. And indeed there will be time To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?” Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40 [They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”] My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin— [They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”] Do I dare 45 Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. For I have known them all already, known them all:— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50 I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55 The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60 And how should I presume? And I have known the arms already, known them all— Arms that are braceleted and white and bare [But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!] It is perfume from a dress 65 That makes me so digress? Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl. And should I then presume? And how should I begin? .      .      .      .      . Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70 And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?… I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. .      .      .      .      . And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75 Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep … tired … or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80 But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85 And in short, I was afraid. And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, Would it have been worth while, 90 To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it toward some overwhelming question, To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95 If one, settling a pillow by her head, Should say: “That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all.” And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, 100 After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor— And this, and so much more?— It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105 Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: “That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all.” .      .      .      .      . 110 No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, 115 Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous— Almost, at times, the Fool. I grow old … I grow old … 120 I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. 125 I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130 Till human voices wake us, and we drown. http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html

Here we go….. again (and again)

Apparently, I like to start things and not finish them. Or start them and start them again.

True to fashion, I’ve started WW again. I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love that it works. I love that when I work hard at it, it works for me.

I hate the meetings, but pretty much have to go for the system to work for me. This time, I’m trying on-line. Today is day 2. I’ve made goal. Shoot, I’ve made “Lifetime.” When you’re at goal, and no more than 2 pounds above, you don’t have to pay. That’s only happened to me one time.

The first week of WW is always a weird one. An interesting one. There’s the excitement of trying something new. The nervousness of will it work? The anxiety of oh dear god, what will I do if my friend is doing that dinner thing? That thought in the back of your mind of I can’t wait to see what the results will be. The eating healthy.

I know I have to be accountable to someone. I suppose that’s where this blog comes into play. Here’s where I’ll write the good, the bad and the ugly. Yee-haw.

I’ve been drinking my water. They say 8-6 oz. glasses. Or is it 6-8 oz glasses? Whatever it is, I’ve been drinking like crazy from my Camelbak water bottle. I got up 2 or 3 times in the night to go pee.

I know it works. I know my digestion gets better. I know I feel better physically, mentally, all that. It’s still that struggle, though. That struggle is always there.

I know I don’t have all that far to go. I know some people have it much worse.

We all need to vent, though, right?

Here we go!

And here we start blog number 800. Okay, really, I think it’s like my 5 “public” one to start. I wanted to try something new, so here we go.

I’ve had several things I’ve wanted to brain dump about, so here it is.

I also never know how to start the first one. But here it is. Take it for what it’s worth.