I haven’t done this in a few days, but I shoved some arch crap in my shoes and I’m wearing my “I’m What Willis Was Talkin’ ‘Bout” shirt, so basically, I CAN’T LOSE.
I didn’t lose.
I ran, I walked, I ran, I walked, I came home. It felt good, as always. I scared the everloving shit out of a dude who was coming onto the sidewalk from his house, and we both felt like assholes, ha ha. At least neither of us were huge or scary-looking people. Or gun owners, I guess. Probably?!
Is it fair to assume someone with an adorable dog doesn’t own a gun? ALMOST DEFINITELY NOT, but too late, I’ve already profiled a stranger based on pet choice.
I seriously need to figure out wtf to do about my calves being jerks, though. I’ve always had issues with calf cramps. I guess stretches and potassium are the way to go.
Part of the issue with “getting healthy,” for me, is that I can’t seem to eat anything before noon. There are very specific things I can occasionally stomach, but everything sounds extremely unappetizing to me. Even cereal, and I FREAKING LOVE CEREAL.
For a while I was drinking coconut water with pulp every morning, and that worked for potassium/light calorie intake. I’ll give it another go.
I’m feeling kind of crappy today, due to a lot of frigged up work/personal responsibilities. I go through phases where I push all the limits of laziness. I always say, “I’ll get it together when other people start to notice.”
But it turns out other people notice things long before they mention it to you. So then I discover everyone’s “known” for weeks, and there’s growing tension surrounding me.
Not doing any of my shit to begin with might be a sign of depression, but I usually feel okay at that point. It’s when other people stop feeling okay about me that almost always triggers the self-loathing and shame. Which triggers more avoidance. Which triggers more shame. Which… y’all know the drill.
I guess I’m writing about this because it forces me to acknowledge that it’s happening again.
It would be super rad to silence the voices telling me I’ll always be a willfully shitty person, but I can’t seem to do that. All I can do is admit that I am where I am, I’ve fucked up a lot, and I may or may not unbury myself this time.
even if you do, it will happen again
YEAH THANKS I KNOW THAT, but hey, why eat if I’ll ever be hungry again, and why sleep if I’ll be tired tomorrow night?
actually maybe you should stop doing those things t–SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP.
I haven’t totally stopped running. So. That’s something. That’s real. It doesn’t feel like it matters, but I know it does.
Here’s a guinea pig with a shopping cart.