The Anti-Ice Cream

It's one of those mornings where everything tingles a little. The coffee at work is so bad it hurts but it's funny instead of annoying. I finally have a place to put paper clips on my desk. The trees are freaky red and yellow and the grass is so green and the sky is so blue. Neither of my cuff buttons were buttoned and it was a naughty naked feeling. And my cube was moved at work to be near where all of the cute guys sit. I pulled out a new box of hot cocoa, because that is what they all drink. A day can be judged entirely on whether it's like high school in a good way, or a bad way. The sad truth is every day is like high school. Except now the teacher's pets spend their days exerting an enormous influence on workplace culture rather than being stuffed in lockers. And I do what I've always done. I eye the cute guys and get A minuses and go along half-heartedly with all the school spirit events so the teacher's pets don't stuff me in a locker.

I had a dream once that I had a blog and I only wrote in it once a week, but on that day I'd write 5-6 entries. I can see that happening with this blog. I will have a bunch of ideas all at once. I am perfecting the idea that if it really doesn't matter how I do it, I do it any way I want. It is a skill to feel my will and act upon it. I'm not talking about eating a half gallon of ice cream. I'm talking about having a blog and doing it however I want to do it. I was once a person who didn't know what she wanted or how she felt. I was entirely caught up in what other people wanted me to do, to the point where I couldn't tell if it was my will or theirs. It has been a joy to learn to know what my will is, and use it to bring myself happiness rather than daily trips to the ice cream aisle.

More Chin-Up Bar

I can now hold up all my own weight for 5-6 seconds. On Thursday I really impressed myself, while hanging I pulled my knees up to just above my pelvis three times. My tummy was pretty pissed off that I didn't stop after two. But it's been 72 hours and my tummy is perfectly happy.

My rule of thumb is if it feels mostly normal 3 day later, I didn't work out too hard. This isn't scientific or anything. It's my own personal threshold where the discomfort overshadows the fun, and my motivation collapses.

On November 17 my mom and I are taking a one hour introduction to kettlebell training. The joke around my house is, "I've got a fever, and the only prescription is more kettlebell." Google "SNL cowbell" if you haven't seen this skit.

For an article about kettlebell training, see http://stumptuous.com/cms/displayarticle.php?aid=49. But do not blame me if you become obsessed with doing squats with perfect form, merely from a single exposure to the best strength training website ever.

No Longer as Annoying as Knitting

E-mail has now become what I always wanted snail mail to be. A way to keep in touch. When I first started e-mailing friends, because of the speed of delivery I thought it was supposed to be like a conversation. We could "talk" everyday without waiting by the phone. I am better at being concise when writing then talking, so I can effectively tell them more, but bore them less. The conversation image did not work, because there really isn't that much to say, and I'm not in the sixth grade anymore. I've actually (almost) grown out of my desire to discuss in detail how cute boy #1 looked at me at lunch today, or how bad boy #2 rolled up his pant legs. The conversation model also did not work because you come off as really needy and annoying if you actually write somebody more than once or twice a week.

The traditional snail mail model on the other hand has been part of our culture for thousands of years. The heroine runs to the mailbox, reads the whole letter without breathing if it's from a lover off to war, slowly word by word savoring every syllable if it's from a sister. With e-mail I have come to treasure e-mails from friends I no longer see. But what really makes it replace snail mail is the boundary I've placed around it wherein I can reply at my leisure, just like I did in my limited letter writing days. Now it is relaxed like letter writing was. No need to rush something that would take anywhere from 2 to 20 days just to be delivered. But it takes less of my own time when I actually sit down to write. And it still has a real time feel, to know my friend will be able to read it five minutes after I send it.

The Cute Sleep Doctor said...

I am sleepy all the time despite eating healthfully, sleeping well for 7-8 hours a night, rarely drinking caffeine, and exercising. So I went to a sleep lab and they hooked a million wires up to me and stuck a couple of little tubes up my nose (only about 1/4 inch) and told me to go to sleep. The results of the study are that I am a good sleeper. I'm almost as proud of myself as when I was 3 and my mom said I was a good eater. Or when I was 13 months and my dad said I was a good pooper. Who knew? I slept 92% of the time I was in the bed, my oxygen was good, "virtually no apneas", no leg movements at all, totally average amount of REM sleep, and a greater than average amount of stage 4 sleep, whatever that is.

So now I'm in the process of being diagnosed with excessive sleepiness. Yes, it's a disorder. It sounds like the usual treatment is to drink more coffee. Yes, I'll have a prescription to drink coffee. I'll be at risk of hurting people, literally, if I skip coffee. I wonder what disease I have to get to be prescribed cigarettes?

At first I told the doctor I wasn't getting tubes up my nose again just to be told to drink more coffee. But then I figured it would be really nice to know for sure why I'm sleepy. As it's worsened, I've worried that it's depression or boredom that I'm just not aware of, or that I'm just so immature that I'm bored (and put to sleep) by everything. It will be nice to know for sure and finally stop wondering.

Over the Blog Hump

I wrote a few blog entries, and because of the time I spent writing them, I read less, and then had less to say. My mind is like a big compost heap. Random things happen to me that I want to write about, but if I'm not also reading, the random events just don't turn into stories. I need a mix of things to go in, so interesting things can come out.

So the real flaw in my plan was taking time to make the entries really nice. That is why I had to cut back on reading that week. So from now on it's off the cuff. Single sentence entries are okay. So is doing multiple entries in one day.