It's definitely fall here. The cloudy, dark, Halloweenish sky... the cool crisp air. The SLEEP! Temperatures in the low sixties must be the ticket to resting for me. I've slept like a rock the last two days. And, of course instead of simply being grateful for that... I've managed to make myself feel guilty for it.
The weather guy on the local news station says that if you aren't turning your heat on, you either have an incredibly high tolerance for cool air, or some very good insulation. Apparently he forgot us broke people! Sorry, but I'm going to just put on a hooded sweatshirt. That's FREE. And free is all I can afford right now. Hanging around in sweats doesn't make me feel very sexy, but who is here to really care anyway?
I didn't go on my shopping mission today. I wasn't feeling it. In fact I wasn't feeling much of anything. I've read about 60 pages now of John Izzo's book... and I'm content with my quietness. Something I need. And something I need to be content with. I'm happy that I am reading it now, because it is telling me what I already knew, but sometimes we have to hear the truth from someone other than ourselves to legitimize our own thoughts. Isn't that a shame?
All I have eaten today was two slices of peanut butter toast. I'm just not hungry. Is the cool air putting me into semi-hibernation mode?
I did work out, and have managed to do at least that one thing for myself each day. Things are looking good! My German "sausage arms" are becoming a little more visually friendly to my eyes. My clothes feel good on my body. And, I feel better. That's the most important thing. I am trying to make good use of my time and not let myself atrophy physically.
C.F. has turned down the heat a notch, and the Irishman has turned it up. I suppose the two equal out in a mathematical sense. I am still very fond of them both. I think they are both very great men. I have no expectations. Just enjoying the relationships as they are. Thankfully, throughout my life, I've never relied on another to feel complete... so having a bit of pleasant fun is just that. Even as I approach the big decision years, the years in which I decide to have a child or never have a child, I feel no pressure to find "the one" and get knocked up. I suppose that means that I'm content with life, even when it's pretty much turned upside down.
The weather guy on the local news station says that if you aren't turning your heat on, you either have an incredibly high tolerance for cool air, or some very good insulation. Apparently he forgot us broke people! Sorry, but I'm going to just put on a hooded sweatshirt. That's FREE. And free is all I can afford right now. Hanging around in sweats doesn't make me feel very sexy, but who is here to really care anyway?
I didn't go on my shopping mission today. I wasn't feeling it. In fact I wasn't feeling much of anything. I've read about 60 pages now of John Izzo's book... and I'm content with my quietness. Something I need. And something I need to be content with. I'm happy that I am reading it now, because it is telling me what I already knew, but sometimes we have to hear the truth from someone other than ourselves to legitimize our own thoughts. Isn't that a shame?
All I have eaten today was two slices of peanut butter toast. I'm just not hungry. Is the cool air putting me into semi-hibernation mode?
I did work out, and have managed to do at least that one thing for myself each day. Things are looking good! My German "sausage arms" are becoming a little more visually friendly to my eyes. My clothes feel good on my body. And, I feel better. That's the most important thing. I am trying to make good use of my time and not let myself atrophy physically.
C.F. has turned down the heat a notch, and the Irishman has turned it up. I suppose the two equal out in a mathematical sense. I am still very fond of them both. I think they are both very great men. I have no expectations. Just enjoying the relationships as they are. Thankfully, throughout my life, I've never relied on another to feel complete... so having a bit of pleasant fun is just that. Even as I approach the big decision years, the years in which I decide to have a child or never have a child, I feel no pressure to find "the one" and get knocked up. I suppose that means that I'm content with life, even when it's pretty much turned upside down.
2 comments:
i really hate how you call the irishman the "irishman". that just sounds so super unattractive! call him something else because when i think of the "irishman" i think of a) the logo for notre dame b) a fat pale drunk guy or c) a fat pale drunk guy that's super annoying.
I'm sorry darling. I'll keep that in mind next time I bring him up. Was trying to keep it consistent and let people know he's the guy from Ireland without saying "the guy from Ireland."
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