Thursday, February 28, 2013

Two Month Check In!

Also know as "Resolution Hangover."

At the end of last month, I posted an update on my New Year's "non-resolutions," and it seems like a good idea to continue - even though February was not a particularly "yay, team Mockingbird!" sort of month.

Things started off well - routines were starting to emerge and I was committed to making a number of gradual, yet ongoing, changes in my lifestyle.  Then - well, February happened.

I've said for years that February is only the shortest month in terms of actual calendar days.  I've often found February to be dreary and l-o-n-g.  Maybe it's winter hanging on with icy claws; I don't know.  At any rate, the second half of this month was beset by one little trouble after another that provided me with excellent incentives to cast aside my baby good habits.  Here it is at the end of the month and I can report that I need to re-commit and start anew.  I didn't take proper care of myself, allowing outside pressures and deadlines to loom larger than they needed to and I forgot what Meat Loaf tried to tell me:  "Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are."  I got behind, I had some minor dental work that had miserable complications, I caught the late winter crud (which turned into Gallumphing Bronchitis) which kept me from getting exercise and had me eating comfort food that was loaded with fat, sugar, and sodium, so I felt even less energetic - repeat dreaded cycle.

I got so wound up that I couldn't see straight - which is what it usually takes for me to actually (gulp!) ask for help.  On top of my usual workload, I'm "boots on the ground" for putting together a conference in June and I'm on Day 2 of the 30 Day Push to get the draft of the book project I'm co-writing in to the publisher.  It's too much all at once, even though I'm not solely responsible for either of those HUGE projects.  I'm told sensible people ask for help - it takes me getting my imaginary Supergirl cape caught in the phone booth door to see the truth of that.  But I did it and you know what? No one seemed to think I was a slacker for needing some assistance.

Go figure.

So here I am - blank slate.  Maybe I'll reach my walking goal today and maybe I won't quite get there, but I'm back to recording it.  Maybe I'll eat my "gold star" number of fruit/vegetable servings and maybe I won't, but (yep) I'm back to recording it. And maybe I'll go a little easier on myself and those around me.

That one's a definite.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

One, Two, Three . . .

It's been a rough patch here at the Nest and I'm not pleased to admit that I've been engaged in a certain amount of unflattering whining.  I'm now heavily involved in resetting my attitude, so let me explain.

Two weeks ago, I was adopted by a skinny kitten who has since told me his name is Jazz.  We did not need another cat, weren't looking for another cat, but things sometimes sort of happen and I'm a marshmallow when it comes to strays, cold days, and busy roads.  Some random guy at the run-down apartment complex we were walking by offered us a beat-up cat carrier and my walking buddy and I took turns carrying our newfound friend a mile back to the car.  The vet declared him healthy (worm and mite free, no feline leukemia) and lo, the pack is officially censused at three.  It gets wearisome trying to keep the kitten's food for the kitten and Jazz doesn't yet know that we do not eat Mockingbird's hair at night (or any other time, for that matter). The house is hectic as the critters sort things out and I try to keep the peace and remind all the Furred Ones that they are special and pretty.

As a teenager, I had braces and, like many teenagers, I wasn't too diligent about brushing and flossing which ultimately resulted in straight teeth, but also a mouthful of dental work.  One of my back molars was more filling than tooth and when the twenty-year-old filling gave way, a crown was indicated.  Not a particularly pleasant morning, but the temporary crown was fitted to get me through the time while the lab made the permanent one.  Three days later, the temporary popped off and the dentist was closed the next day, so I've been limping along until I can get to the office tomorrow.  I know it's not serious, but it HURTS!

Also, we had an unseasonably pleasant day weather-wise and I rolled down my car windows to take advantage of that fact.  Now my passenger side window is proudly open to the elements which yesterday, included a beautiful couple of hours of fluffy snow.

Because of the tooth issue and the snow, I've thrown aside the good habits I'd been working so hard to develop - I haven't walked enough, haven't eaten the right foods, and didn't want to do much to keep the house tidy - and I felt pretty crummy about all of that.

Safe to say, I have not been a pleasant person to be around the last 36 hours or so.

It's so easy to get caught up in this sort of "poor me" thinking, but the fact is, it really isn't so bad.  Sure, I've been making do on yogurt and protein drinks, but you know what?  I have yogurt and protein drinks - and when I made it up to mac 'n' cheese last night - well, that was a cause for celebration!

Also:

  • A kitten with a sweet disposition and a distinct desire to be a cuddle-monkey has deigned to share our Nest.
  • The dentist will cluck over my discomfort and take care of me tomorrow.  
  • I have a husband who went out this morning and brought back pretty much the entire aisle of "tooth pain" medication from the drugstore.
  • I have friends who not only listen to me gripe, but then bring me homemade mac 'n' cheese.
  • Maybe I'm developing better habits than I think, if it's bugging me when I'm off-track.  And maybe I ought to ease up a little.  No one (well, no one sane, which probably lets me off the hook) expects someone who's under the weather to walk 3.3 miles and crunch carrots.
  • I have a reliable car and a trustworthy mechanic.


Blessings.  They're worth counting.  And there's nothing like a short run of minor misfortune to make me appreciate how lucky and blessed I am in my everyday life.

I just may dance a jig.  Well, probably not, but the idea is there.