"Peoples opinions of others are entirely based on how they believe those people view themselves."
Make sense?
Example 1. You know a woman who is remarkably well-dressed in a very modern sense and she is very pretty but never talks to you. You assume that because she never meets your eyes that she is proud, shallow, and believes you to be beneath her and if you are weak spirited you let this affect your opinion of yourself and overall happiness. When in reality she is merely shy, wishes to please, and has just as much social awkwardness as you do.
Example 2. Based on my first version of this thesis. I was a young teenager sitting in church and dreading that my hair wasn't doing exactly what I wanted it to. I assumed that everyone's good opinion was based upon the perfection of my hair and so judged myself accordingly. Therefore I was miserable and blamed everyone else for their judgements making me feel inadequate and felt doomed to always being second string and less than good enough so why bother trying so hard if it was only going to make me miserable? Luckily after that meeting I realized that I hadn't noticed what anyone else's hair was doing. Further, I couldn't even recall what anyone else looked like at all the Sunday before and realized that everyone must care about my appearance as much as I cared about theirs.
Conclusion of theory. One must always go about in good spirits and then they will recommend themselves to the good opinion of everybody regardless of station, looks, or choice of friends. The key is clear, confident, communication to avoid misunderstandings.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Making Goals and Keeping Goals are Two kinds of Sauces.
I'm fantastic at making goals. I love that moment of anticipation and excitement that comes with a well planned ...plan. (I hate repeating words, but that's what it is.)
I'm great at keeping plans that have a day's deadline. I'm horrible at keeping life-changing, everyday, all the time kind of goals. I get bored, I forget, or I simply fall into my rut of laziness and say, maybe next time.
I think the hardest point of doing something is the moment before. Like repelling off a cliff. Actually trusting the rope and your lifter to hold you can take about ten minutes of freaking out before you finally (if ever) let yourself sit back into the harness (or too far back so your head is pointing at the rocks below. Not that I have personal experience or anything, just saying.)
So, my moment before is actually getting dressed.
I now have a newspaper route that I wake up at 3:30am for and promptly go back to sleep after around 6:30. It's great. It gets me up and walking. I get the see the moon in all it's glory. I get some alone thinking time with nothing but me and the radio. I get to experience runny nose, chapped lips, creaky muscles, and cranky customers, but hey, it's a job.
After the second wake up it's not so easy. I either do one of two things. Watch tv all day. Go through my e-mail newsletters all day (those things pile up quick). Or do chores all day. I forget my goals of fitness and writing the most. Luckily, I am "thrifting" my clothes otherwise I'd think I was a complete wreck after my last post declaration.
I'm currently most worried about the fitness thing. My sister got me to sign up for a 5k next weekend and I'm totally not in shape for it after two months of virtual inactivity. Let's just say I won't be surprised if I walk most of it. I'm a great walker. And I've never liked running. The only reason why I'm running is because my sister looked disappointed when I said I couldn't run.
Why do I put other people's considerations before my own? It's the only reason why I think next Saturday is going to suck. My sister, brother-in-law and their friends are totally going to leave me in the dust. Even knowing this I'm not trying to get some running in because (A) a week is hardly long enough to train for a 5k and (B) I've never liked running. Ever. I'm a lifter, always have been. If I have to do cardio I'd rather bike or do an obstacle course. Running is boring and it's too easy for me to play depressing mind games with myself because I suddenly have all this time to think about nothing else.
I can still remember back in fourth grade when we had to run around a field for PE. I remember thinking that I was a pretty good runner. I wouldn't be in the front but I'd at least be in the forefront. Not. I soon despaired as kids past me by and the lead runner got a full half field ahead of me. I quit then and just walked. I do the same thing during "free runs" all through middle and high school. After all the term "free run" is very loosely applied. Since there is no time limit or finish line who cares if I'm running or walking?
I like blog therapy. It gives me a space to get all these old demons out.
I like fitness, I really do. I like being with people who are working towards the same goals. I like dancing, biking, lifting, and I'd probably like rock climbing if there was a wall around hear since I love bouldering. I love teaching about it and learning. I'm slowly learning how to be fit in my own life.
You know, maybe this is why I can never be a real fitness buff. I take other people's opinions too much into consideration. I'll never be "fit enough" for the runners, marathoners, or lifters. But I can still be fit. Interestingly enough I think this is why I wisely stayed out of fashion. Too many peoples opinions crammed into your skull can make you go crazy.
I do enjoy my occasional day of laziness. But I think I do want to get up and go run sometimes. Even if it's for a short time. Honestly, I prefer Zumba. If there was a last Zumba girl standing competition, I would totally dominate.
As for writing. I just have a block. All my ideas are fan-fiction. Maybe I could blame this on watching too much tv? I just need to take time to sit down and free write one of these days.
I dreamed about school last night. I think I'm really missing it. Oddly enough I also keep dreaming about guys. This is a new development for me. I never dream about guys. I always dream about sunken cities, ancient ruins, and Chinese mafia. Not love triangles, awkward meetings or kissing. What is this? True I'm almost 22 and I'm long over-due for having these kinds of dreams according to the current statistics. But seriously? What's going on? I miss my adventure dreams.
I almost had one this morning. I was with my Grandpa and we were exploring some terra formations via helicopter and hiking. There was a gold stream only he knew how to find. For some reason Grandpa kept changing into Dad and back to Grandpa. No mystery there, they both always loved to explore the wilderness. It's a family legacy thing. Grandpa was even consulted by the park service when their maps became outdated. The only other details from the dream that I remember are that everyone seemed to think Grandpa was crazy and I was all excited to ask him about this mysterious gold vine and grateful that I could still ask him about stuff like that, but then my more conscious self remembered that he died last year.
And that's when a typical adventure dream turned back into one of my weirder guy dreams. You'd think I'd have some control over my dream self, but believe me, I don't. I've tried for years and whatever I plan to dream when I fall asleep never happens. Usually I'll get something much better.
All this being said. Today's goal is to get some yard work done since it's a nice-ish day. I should get some chores done since the end of the week is getting closer. And maybe I'll run on the Wii.
I'm great at keeping plans that have a day's deadline. I'm horrible at keeping life-changing, everyday, all the time kind of goals. I get bored, I forget, or I simply fall into my rut of laziness and say, maybe next time.
I think the hardest point of doing something is the moment before. Like repelling off a cliff. Actually trusting the rope and your lifter to hold you can take about ten minutes of freaking out before you finally (if ever) let yourself sit back into the harness (or too far back so your head is pointing at the rocks below. Not that I have personal experience or anything, just saying.)
So, my moment before is actually getting dressed.
I now have a newspaper route that I wake up at 3:30am for and promptly go back to sleep after around 6:30. It's great. It gets me up and walking. I get the see the moon in all it's glory. I get some alone thinking time with nothing but me and the radio. I get to experience runny nose, chapped lips, creaky muscles, and cranky customers, but hey, it's a job.
After the second wake up it's not so easy. I either do one of two things. Watch tv all day. Go through my e-mail newsletters all day (those things pile up quick). Or do chores all day. I forget my goals of fitness and writing the most. Luckily, I am "thrifting" my clothes otherwise I'd think I was a complete wreck after my last post declaration.
I'm currently most worried about the fitness thing. My sister got me to sign up for a 5k next weekend and I'm totally not in shape for it after two months of virtual inactivity. Let's just say I won't be surprised if I walk most of it. I'm a great walker. And I've never liked running. The only reason why I'm running is because my sister looked disappointed when I said I couldn't run.
Why do I put other people's considerations before my own? It's the only reason why I think next Saturday is going to suck. My sister, brother-in-law and their friends are totally going to leave me in the dust. Even knowing this I'm not trying to get some running in because (A) a week is hardly long enough to train for a 5k and (B) I've never liked running. Ever. I'm a lifter, always have been. If I have to do cardio I'd rather bike or do an obstacle course. Running is boring and it's too easy for me to play depressing mind games with myself because I suddenly have all this time to think about nothing else.
I can still remember back in fourth grade when we had to run around a field for PE. I remember thinking that I was a pretty good runner. I wouldn't be in the front but I'd at least be in the forefront. Not. I soon despaired as kids past me by and the lead runner got a full half field ahead of me. I quit then and just walked. I do the same thing during "free runs" all through middle and high school. After all the term "free run" is very loosely applied. Since there is no time limit or finish line who cares if I'm running or walking?
I like blog therapy. It gives me a space to get all these old demons out.
I like fitness, I really do. I like being with people who are working towards the same goals. I like dancing, biking, lifting, and I'd probably like rock climbing if there was a wall around hear since I love bouldering. I love teaching about it and learning. I'm slowly learning how to be fit in my own life.
You know, maybe this is why I can never be a real fitness buff. I take other people's opinions too much into consideration. I'll never be "fit enough" for the runners, marathoners, or lifters. But I can still be fit. Interestingly enough I think this is why I wisely stayed out of fashion. Too many peoples opinions crammed into your skull can make you go crazy.
I do enjoy my occasional day of laziness. But I think I do want to get up and go run sometimes. Even if it's for a short time. Honestly, I prefer Zumba. If there was a last Zumba girl standing competition, I would totally dominate.
As for writing. I just have a block. All my ideas are fan-fiction. Maybe I could blame this on watching too much tv? I just need to take time to sit down and free write one of these days.
I dreamed about school last night. I think I'm really missing it. Oddly enough I also keep dreaming about guys. This is a new development for me. I never dream about guys. I always dream about sunken cities, ancient ruins, and Chinese mafia. Not love triangles, awkward meetings or kissing. What is this? True I'm almost 22 and I'm long over-due for having these kinds of dreams according to the current statistics. But seriously? What's going on? I miss my adventure dreams.
I almost had one this morning. I was with my Grandpa and we were exploring some terra formations via helicopter and hiking. There was a gold stream only he knew how to find. For some reason Grandpa kept changing into Dad and back to Grandpa. No mystery there, they both always loved to explore the wilderness. It's a family legacy thing. Grandpa was even consulted by the park service when their maps became outdated. The only other details from the dream that I remember are that everyone seemed to think Grandpa was crazy and I was all excited to ask him about this mysterious gold vine and grateful that I could still ask him about stuff like that, but then my more conscious self remembered that he died last year.
And that's when a typical adventure dream turned back into one of my weirder guy dreams. You'd think I'd have some control over my dream self, but believe me, I don't. I've tried for years and whatever I plan to dream when I fall asleep never happens. Usually I'll get something much better.
All this being said. Today's goal is to get some yard work done since it's a nice-ish day. I should get some chores done since the end of the week is getting closer. And maybe I'll run on the Wii.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
It's So Hard to be Lazy
Why is it that we do the thing that we know will make us the least happy?
Or more accurately, why is it both the easiest and the hardest to take a path of in-action instead of action? Easiest, because it requires almost no effort. Hardest, because then you are forever plagued with the guilt of what might've, chould've, should've been.
For example. Last January I have been very in-active. Why? Because I just didn't care.
Mom called it the mid-winter blues. I don't usually like to blame my behavior on the weather, astrological charts, or the ancestral spirits but there you have it. As much as I hate to admit that something as silly as the time of year has control over my feelings I am forced to admit that I suffer from mid-winter blues. Looking back, I've probably had this issue for years.
Maybe I should consider sun-baking my skin-cells into a cancered frenzy every January?
Anyway, back to the topic. I've been meditating on the question of why people will do what they know will make them unhappy. Ok, fine, I've been meditating on why I have self-destructive behavioral issues. (Before you ask, no I am not a masochist. I pierced my ears this winter and every time I try to put my earrings back in I'm ready to give up the whole idea of ever looking feminine. Who ever invented this fashion torture? While I'm on the subject, low-ride/skinny jeans for girls are totally the new corset. Just saying. It just as uncomfortable, impractical, and shapely.)
This is why I ponder the question. Supposedly, I've been living the life any over-worked person could possibly dream of. I've slept late, gone to bed late, I didn't exercise though I have the time, I didn't eat well, did nothing but watch tv, and quit a perfectly respectable job I couldn't afford to lose. Why? Though my friends may envy me I certainly didn't. I was bored, depressed, and broke. Besides, those are the actions of an insane person which I am clearly not...most of the time...don't judge me.
Dallin H. Oaks spoke in the April 2011 Conference about Desire.
"Let us remember that desires dictate our priorities, priorities shape our choices, and choices determine our actions. In addition, it is our actions and our desires that cause us to become something, whether a true friend, a gifted teacher, or one who has qualified for eternal life."
So what does that say about me? That I love to be active but I seem to love making myself depressed even more so I'll choose inactivity? Isn't that the definition of a slob?
Maybe it's simply the act of taking the easiest path. Part of me wants to refuse that it could be that simple, but it probably is. Right now it's easy for me to forget work and everything because I'm on break and I only have so many weeks left before school starts. Mom already said that she could afford me so why bother stressing myself over job hunting?
Why bother?
Why bother?!
Am I even hearing myself? I hate being lazy. Hate it with a passion. Because once you sink into a pit of laziness it is easiest to stay and hardest to do what needs to be done. Plus, you've got all this self-doubt and other degrading thoughts rotting in your brain that only serve to keep you down. It's fun. Really. Give me a desk job over that, please.
Furthermore, I am not a mooch. As much as I do not want to take out a loan I especially don't want my mother to shoulder my whole financial burden. I may still be an dependent, but I'm also a freakin' adult for crying out loud! I should be able to pay at least some of my own stupid bills. It is wrong for me to expect my mother to pay for me at this stage in my life.
This is why I am so glad January only lasts a month. I finally have started reading fun books again. I actually fell content at random points in the day. And I plan to get a newspaper route since nothing else is working. I've also got some out-door chores lined up and I'm planning a training schedule for my sister and brother-in-law for the Spudman Triathlon.
Mid-winter blues, get the heck out of my life. It's time for me to roll up my sleeves and get to work! Springs a coming and I don't have time for self pity. And yes, I'm one of those people who love to wake up early as long as there's a purpose. It always makes my day.
Or more accurately, why is it both the easiest and the hardest to take a path of in-action instead of action? Easiest, because it requires almost no effort. Hardest, because then you are forever plagued with the guilt of what might've, chould've, should've been.
For example. Last January I have been very in-active. Why? Because I just didn't care.
Mom called it the mid-winter blues. I don't usually like to blame my behavior on the weather, astrological charts, or the ancestral spirits but there you have it. As much as I hate to admit that something as silly as the time of year has control over my feelings I am forced to admit that I suffer from mid-winter blues. Looking back, I've probably had this issue for years.
Maybe I should consider sun-baking my skin-cells into a cancered frenzy every January?
Anyway, back to the topic. I've been meditating on the question of why people will do what they know will make them unhappy. Ok, fine, I've been meditating on why I have self-destructive behavioral issues. (Before you ask, no I am not a masochist. I pierced my ears this winter and every time I try to put my earrings back in I'm ready to give up the whole idea of ever looking feminine. Who ever invented this fashion torture? While I'm on the subject, low-ride/skinny jeans for girls are totally the new corset. Just saying. It just as uncomfortable, impractical, and shapely.)
This is why I ponder the question. Supposedly, I've been living the life any over-worked person could possibly dream of. I've slept late, gone to bed late, I didn't exercise though I have the time, I didn't eat well, did nothing but watch tv, and quit a perfectly respectable job I couldn't afford to lose. Why? Though my friends may envy me I certainly didn't. I was bored, depressed, and broke. Besides, those are the actions of an insane person which I am clearly not...most of the time...don't judge me.
Dallin H. Oaks spoke in the April 2011 Conference about Desire.
"Let us remember that desires dictate our priorities, priorities shape our choices, and choices determine our actions. In addition, it is our actions and our desires that cause us to become something, whether a true friend, a gifted teacher, or one who has qualified for eternal life."
So what does that say about me? That I love to be active but I seem to love making myself depressed even more so I'll choose inactivity? Isn't that the definition of a slob?
Maybe it's simply the act of taking the easiest path. Part of me wants to refuse that it could be that simple, but it probably is. Right now it's easy for me to forget work and everything because I'm on break and I only have so many weeks left before school starts. Mom already said that she could afford me so why bother stressing myself over job hunting?
Why bother?
Why bother?!
Am I even hearing myself? I hate being lazy. Hate it with a passion. Because once you sink into a pit of laziness it is easiest to stay and hardest to do what needs to be done. Plus, you've got all this self-doubt and other degrading thoughts rotting in your brain that only serve to keep you down. It's fun. Really. Give me a desk job over that, please.
Furthermore, I am not a mooch. As much as I do not want to take out a loan I especially don't want my mother to shoulder my whole financial burden. I may still be an dependent, but I'm also a freakin' adult for crying out loud! I should be able to pay at least some of my own stupid bills. It is wrong for me to expect my mother to pay for me at this stage in my life.
This is why I am so glad January only lasts a month. I finally have started reading fun books again. I actually fell content at random points in the day. And I plan to get a newspaper route since nothing else is working. I've also got some out-door chores lined up and I'm planning a training schedule for my sister and brother-in-law for the Spudman Triathlon.
Mid-winter blues, get the heck out of my life. It's time for me to roll up my sleeves and get to work! Springs a coming and I don't have time for self pity. And yes, I'm one of those people who love to wake up early as long as there's a purpose. It always makes my day.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Simple Happiness
I find that even the most boring day can be lifted with doing one simple chore.
If all minds instantly revert to their laziest place when left alone, my laziest place is tv. I'll watch it all day, episode after episode, and feel worse and worse at the completion of each one, but I just can't seem to stop watching. I tried to do the dishes to get myself away from the tv, but our house is set up just right for tv to be the chief entertainment for dish washers. (Note: we do not own the appliance that washes dishes. All dishes must be washed by hand.)
What was a girl to do?
My salvation!
It snowed. So the walk needed shoveling. And since I was all dressed up I might as well take care of the molding gourdes left on our patio, and since that was a stinky chore anyway I might as well clean my cow slushed boots.
I felt so good after that I went for a nice long walk.
I did have a moment of panic this weekend. I got on the scale for the first time in months and I had shot back above 200. Who does that after maintaining a steady low 190's for three years? I blame the extra muscle I gained last year. That with the usual holiday fluff pushed my weight up.
Please note that I am not upset about this...ok maybe a little, but the knowledge that the culprit is nothing more then densely packed protein fibers makes me feel a little better.
PS: I've decided that the ticker is too annoying to deal with. That or I may have forgotten my pin and don't feel like building a new one right now....oops.
If all minds instantly revert to their laziest place when left alone, my laziest place is tv. I'll watch it all day, episode after episode, and feel worse and worse at the completion of each one, but I just can't seem to stop watching. I tried to do the dishes to get myself away from the tv, but our house is set up just right for tv to be the chief entertainment for dish washers. (Note: we do not own the appliance that washes dishes. All dishes must be washed by hand.)
What was a girl to do?
My salvation!
It snowed. So the walk needed shoveling. And since I was all dressed up I might as well take care of the molding gourdes left on our patio, and since that was a stinky chore anyway I might as well clean my cow slushed boots.
I felt so good after that I went for a nice long walk.
I did have a moment of panic this weekend. I got on the scale for the first time in months and I had shot back above 200. Who does that after maintaining a steady low 190's for three years? I blame the extra muscle I gained last year. That with the usual holiday fluff pushed my weight up.
Please note that I am not upset about this...ok maybe a little, but the knowledge that the culprit is nothing more then densely packed protein fibers makes me feel a little better.
PS: I've decided that the ticker is too annoying to deal with. That or I may have forgotten my pin and don't feel like building a new one right now....oops.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Weight Loss Woes and Pros
The general opinion on weight loss?
Quick = bad; Slow = good
Being overweight can lead to an early demise
Pills are over-rated and NEVER work long-term
It has to be a lifestyle change
Shaming yourself to a size 0 never works
All goals can be achieved with a simple balance of strength/cardio, nutrition, healthy fun activities.
My observations
Every"body" is different/ diet and exercise will not change your DNA. No matter what you'll still look like you, just a thinner you.
No one formula works for everyone
It is impossible to change diet over-night because then you starve. Literally. I mean, what normal person grows up knowing how to cook with wheat germ?
For Myself
I've been paying attention to my own health since 2008. I've never lost more than 10 lbs. I'm not complaining, I'm a hot fluffy and I know it. And granted, I've never been all that consistent when it comes to exercise, but I have learned that six peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in an afternoon does no equal a snack.
I started at 201 lbs and lost the weight that typically comes with the first stretch grace to a life style change. Biggest Loser fans know it as Week One, the big numbers weight loss. I have been bouncing around the lower 190's ever since. The eternal Week Two!
A roommate introduced me to the show Biggest Loser and I learned some more things from that. I took a nutrition class and a couple of fitness classes in college and learned even more. All last year I was in the gym at least 5 times a week with my schools version of Biggest Loser, Biggest Winner. First as a contestant, then as a trainer. I know about the balanced diet and practice it the best of my abilities.
I'm still at or around 192-193 except now it's more like 194-195 because of the holidays and being home makes me too lazy to go to the gym everyday. But I did loose at least two inches all over the place.
Still, it's been five years, why no weight loss? I don't want to know because I'm depressed or anything, as I said, I'm pretty hot. I want to know because even with all of my fitness-know how that I have it just doesn't make sense that I'd lost zero pounds last year. It defies science.
My conclusion?
I like chocolate too much. It's a rare month if I don't have chocolate at least three times and always once around the same time. Being home where my mom keeps a store of chocolate chips doesn't help matters either. I keep having diet changes between coming home and going to school, plus school stress (stress causes weight retention), and I experience lonely/boredom depression when I come home that sometimes gives me the munchies.
Still, even with all these road blocks none of them are really big enough or consistent enough to explain my issue.
Hmmm I think I need to do some research....
But it hasn't all been for nothing. I would have quit long ago if it had all been about the weight.
I move more now than I used to. My lower back experiences less pain. The feminine monthly experience has been easier to deal with too. (Halle-freakin-lujah!) I can see/feel my muscles even if no one else can see them. (They can feel them though!)
So as far as I'm concerned I think I've replaced a lot of my fat with strength, but you can't see it.
I bring this up because I'm considering getting one of those online weight counter things that you post in blogs, threads and such. Like this one...
Maybe that will give me the extra boost to keep to my goals, or it might just make me depressed because I don't have a great record for losing weight at any rate at all. I wonder if they've come up with an inches calculator? I can loose inches in a month, I know that much.
I guess I'm just looking for some motivation. I workout best with people. Mom and I go for walks, but it's not the same as working up a sweat running on the treadmill and lifting weights.
I never thought I'd say this, but...
I miss school! I miss Biggest Winner and its motivating environment. I miss sweat, and the smell of disinfectant and machinery at work.
Eh, why not. It could work.
Quick = bad; Slow = good
Being overweight can lead to an early demise
Pills are over-rated and NEVER work long-term
It has to be a lifestyle change
Shaming yourself to a size 0 never works
All goals can be achieved with a simple balance of strength/cardio, nutrition, healthy fun activities.
My observations
Every"body" is different/ diet and exercise will not change your DNA. No matter what you'll still look like you, just a thinner you.
No one formula works for everyone
It is impossible to change diet over-night because then you starve. Literally. I mean, what normal person grows up knowing how to cook with wheat germ?
For Myself
I've been paying attention to my own health since 2008. I've never lost more than 10 lbs. I'm not complaining, I'm a hot fluffy and I know it. And granted, I've never been all that consistent when it comes to exercise, but I have learned that six peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in an afternoon does no equal a snack.
I started at 201 lbs and lost the weight that typically comes with the first stretch grace to a life style change. Biggest Loser fans know it as Week One, the big numbers weight loss. I have been bouncing around the lower 190's ever since. The eternal Week Two!
A roommate introduced me to the show Biggest Loser and I learned some more things from that. I took a nutrition class and a couple of fitness classes in college and learned even more. All last year I was in the gym at least 5 times a week with my schools version of Biggest Loser, Biggest Winner. First as a contestant, then as a trainer. I know about the balanced diet and practice it the best of my abilities.
I'm still at or around 192-193 except now it's more like 194-195 because of the holidays and being home makes me too lazy to go to the gym everyday. But I did loose at least two inches all over the place.
Still, it's been five years, why no weight loss? I don't want to know because I'm depressed or anything, as I said, I'm pretty hot. I want to know because even with all of my fitness-know how that I have it just doesn't make sense that I'd lost zero pounds last year. It defies science.
My conclusion?
I like chocolate too much. It's a rare month if I don't have chocolate at least three times and always once around the same time. Being home where my mom keeps a store of chocolate chips doesn't help matters either. I keep having diet changes between coming home and going to school, plus school stress (stress causes weight retention), and I experience lonely/boredom depression when I come home that sometimes gives me the munchies.
Still, even with all these road blocks none of them are really big enough or consistent enough to explain my issue.
Hmmm I think I need to do some research....
But it hasn't all been for nothing. I would have quit long ago if it had all been about the weight.
I move more now than I used to. My lower back experiences less pain. The feminine monthly experience has been easier to deal with too. (Halle-freakin-lujah!) I can see/feel my muscles even if no one else can see them. (They can feel them though!)
So as far as I'm concerned I think I've replaced a lot of my fat with strength, but you can't see it.
I bring this up because I'm considering getting one of those online weight counter things that you post in blogs, threads and such. Like this one...
Maybe that will give me the extra boost to keep to my goals, or it might just make me depressed because I don't have a great record for losing weight at any rate at all. I wonder if they've come up with an inches calculator? I can loose inches in a month, I know that much.
I guess I'm just looking for some motivation. I workout best with people. Mom and I go for walks, but it's not the same as working up a sweat running on the treadmill and lifting weights.
I never thought I'd say this, but...
I miss school! I miss Biggest Winner and its motivating environment. I miss sweat, and the smell of disinfectant and machinery at work.
Eh, why not. It could work.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
It Is Better to Look Up
That is the title of a talk given at last October LDS General Conference by Carl B. Cook. It talks about how looking down only weighs us further down and how it is better to look up to positive things, like God, and to have optimism in our lives. In this way we can handle the challenges and responsibilities in our lives. It is a simple formula, but it does brighten the spirits of those who try it.
I know what you're thinking, "Yeah, like thinking about Jesus is going to make me feel better. There's got to be a catch, it can't be that easy." Well, if looking at a serpent mounted on a staff was enough to heal hundreds of Israelites, then why not?
I bring this up because after last weeks discovery I was on a high wave until Thursday or Friday. Then I started to go crazy again. Why did I give up the first job that was offered to me? How stupid could I be? I need the money. I'm a bum. Who sits and watches t.v. for twelve hours at a time? I'm such a hypocrite. My pioneer ancestors would be ashamed. Why can't I get to the gym everyday? So what if your sisters kids were sick, that's no excuse. Writing and sewing? That's your excuse for being home all day? You haven't even worked on your novel two days together since you've been home! As for sewing, is that why you have a stack of cut up fabric gathering dust? What's wrong with you? How can the spirit talk to you if you don't even pay attention in church? Don't bother to go to hang out with people. You should be looking for a job instead. You haven't even showered in days and you have no clean clothes to wear, who would want to hang out with a fat, stinky, lazy slob like you anyway?
While editing this I realized the change in tenses in the last paragraph. Instead of fixing it I'm keeping it because one the things they teach in counselling is how to own your own actions. Maybe there's a key here. If I stop talking to myself in second person, maybe I'll be nicer to myself? Is that why we're trained to to say I, me, my in sessions? Hmm, food for thought.
Yeah, I'm pretty harsh on myself. I'm my own best nag. I'm really grateful that my mom knows about this and she's the most understanding, sweet-as-pie mother in the world, otherwise I'd be getting this talk double time. She only nudges me once every three days, or once a day if she thinks I've given up on myself.
She'll say stuff like, "So, have you called the temp agency yet? Brother so and so might hire you for such and such, give him a call?" Or, she'll just stick with the all powerful sigh. That get's to me better than any sentence because mom is the one person in this world who's happiness trumps my own every time. She doesn't even have to be sighing about me, I'll instantly think, "What? What am I doing wrong? What do I need to do?" And she was on a sighing kick last night so bad that I noticed through my headphones.
This morning I had to literally throw myself out of bed. I was a lazy slob. Who would care if I never got up again? Around ten I finally said enough was enough and to get over myself and get in the shower cause I stunk.
One thing I've noticed about me and life. The less I do, the more agitated and grumpy I get and the more useless I feel and the less stuff I want to do. The instant I do anything productive, I start to feel better. But its a fine line because if I start to do too much I start to get agitated and grumpy again. It's really lame. And it's all mental which doesn't make it any easier. And when you don't have anyone counting on you to be anywhere or to do anything it's hard to come up with priorities and so nothing ever gets done. It's all highly frustrating.
Anyway, so after the shower and a bit of dusting while listening to the above talk, I began to feel much better. I called the temp agency for the first time in a week and they didn't seem agitated with me at all. I thought about pieces of the talk. How looking at life's burdens with optimism can make them seem lighter, or even better, do-able.
One of the problems of having no school or employment is that it gives my demons enough time to beat me over the head. It's like I start to do something and then a little voice says, "What are you doing? Don't you know you should be doing this?" And then I'd change gears and sure enough that little voice would say, "Why did you stop doing that project. It's never going to get done if you don't put a little time into it. Oh and don't forget this other project that you wanted to do." It's an evil exchange that always ends with me either going to my sisters house cause she called and needed help or zoning out to a tv show because I don't want to deal with it anymore. And nothing gets done.
Now that I've said it out loud, maybe I'll be able to work my way through this.
Sorry for this ultra depressing post. I'm still working my way out of the lazy slob feelings so give me time. Becoming simply better isn't about becoming perfect in a day, but gradually working my way to becoming the person I want to be while finding happiness and strength in the person I am.
Five Things I Like about How Strong I Am
I can lift weights and I like it.
I'm a risk taker
I always have hope
I can talk about my problems
I can fight through my mental blocks
I know what you're thinking, "Yeah, like thinking about Jesus is going to make me feel better. There's got to be a catch, it can't be that easy." Well, if looking at a serpent mounted on a staff was enough to heal hundreds of Israelites, then why not?
I bring this up because after last weeks discovery I was on a high wave until Thursday or Friday. Then I started to go crazy again. Why did I give up the first job that was offered to me? How stupid could I be? I need the money. I'm a bum. Who sits and watches t.v. for twelve hours at a time? I'm such a hypocrite. My pioneer ancestors would be ashamed. Why can't I get to the gym everyday? So what if your sisters kids were sick, that's no excuse. Writing and sewing? That's your excuse for being home all day? You haven't even worked on your novel two days together since you've been home! As for sewing, is that why you have a stack of cut up fabric gathering dust? What's wrong with you? How can the spirit talk to you if you don't even pay attention in church? Don't bother to go to hang out with people. You should be looking for a job instead. You haven't even showered in days and you have no clean clothes to wear, who would want to hang out with a fat, stinky, lazy slob like you anyway?
While editing this I realized the change in tenses in the last paragraph. Instead of fixing it I'm keeping it because one the things they teach in counselling is how to own your own actions. Maybe there's a key here. If I stop talking to myself in second person, maybe I'll be nicer to myself? Is that why we're trained to to say I, me, my in sessions? Hmm, food for thought.
Yeah, I'm pretty harsh on myself. I'm my own best nag. I'm really grateful that my mom knows about this and she's the most understanding, sweet-as-pie mother in the world, otherwise I'd be getting this talk double time. She only nudges me once every three days, or once a day if she thinks I've given up on myself.
She'll say stuff like, "So, have you called the temp agency yet? Brother so and so might hire you for such and such, give him a call?" Or, she'll just stick with the all powerful sigh. That get's to me better than any sentence because mom is the one person in this world who's happiness trumps my own every time. She doesn't even have to be sighing about me, I'll instantly think, "What? What am I doing wrong? What do I need to do?" And she was on a sighing kick last night so bad that I noticed through my headphones.
This morning I had to literally throw myself out of bed. I was a lazy slob. Who would care if I never got up again? Around ten I finally said enough was enough and to get over myself and get in the shower cause I stunk.
One thing I've noticed about me and life. The less I do, the more agitated and grumpy I get and the more useless I feel and the less stuff I want to do. The instant I do anything productive, I start to feel better. But its a fine line because if I start to do too much I start to get agitated and grumpy again. It's really lame. And it's all mental which doesn't make it any easier. And when you don't have anyone counting on you to be anywhere or to do anything it's hard to come up with priorities and so nothing ever gets done. It's all highly frustrating.
Anyway, so after the shower and a bit of dusting while listening to the above talk, I began to feel much better. I called the temp agency for the first time in a week and they didn't seem agitated with me at all. I thought about pieces of the talk. How looking at life's burdens with optimism can make them seem lighter, or even better, do-able.
One of the problems of having no school or employment is that it gives my demons enough time to beat me over the head. It's like I start to do something and then a little voice says, "What are you doing? Don't you know you should be doing this?" And then I'd change gears and sure enough that little voice would say, "Why did you stop doing that project. It's never going to get done if you don't put a little time into it. Oh and don't forget this other project that you wanted to do." It's an evil exchange that always ends with me either going to my sisters house cause she called and needed help or zoning out to a tv show because I don't want to deal with it anymore. And nothing gets done.
Now that I've said it out loud, maybe I'll be able to work my way through this.
Sorry for this ultra depressing post. I'm still working my way out of the lazy slob feelings so give me time. Becoming simply better isn't about becoming perfect in a day, but gradually working my way to becoming the person I want to be while finding happiness and strength in the person I am.
Five Things I Like about How Strong I Am
I can lift weights and I like it.
I'm a risk taker
I always have hope
I can talk about my problems
I can fight through my mental blocks
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
My Experience at the Temp Job Tangent
(Because it didn't fit in the original post without completely going off topic. It's still an interesting story, and it gives a better explanation for why I only lasted a day.)
I was still on the wave of calm feelings Sunday evening when I received a phone call from the temp agency about my job starting on Monday. This was the first that I'd heard that I had the job. Apparently I'd accepted this one without meaning too. So the next morning, 4 am, completely unprepared, I headed out to a dairy farm to feed and water baby cows. It was dark and the roads were icy, I have no snow tires and my little clunker clutch car doesn't like to go much above 60. I hydroplaned at least ten times on the way to work. Then I found out that most of my co-workers could barely speak a lick of English. Fortunately the job was the kind that you could mime a lot of it and they were very nice.
My job was to feed and water all 400 baby cows and bottle feed the littlest ones. They ranged in size from small labradors to maybe a mastiff. The youngest couldn't even stand yet and wouldn't take the bottle. Each cow had it own ten foot by three and a half foot pen with over half of it being a little shed. They stood up on fresh hay and had vaccinations and were fed organic grains if they weren't having milk. The ground was cold and hard until about one o-clock in the afternoon when we started wading ankle deep in mud. Before lunch the boots I had brought had already leaked through so they gave me some company boots. One boot leaked and by the end of the day my socks on my right foot were completely black.
I saw three dead baby cows during my shift. One we discovered that morning and it was still in it's pen when I left. I saw another around lunch time laying in a corner in the pasteurization room, and another one just as we were finishing the last round of watering. By the empty spaces in the pen rows I could tell that this is normal. It is farm work, babies are known to die. I get it. Farmer's do have to factor in the death rate for their stock. Still, I can't help but wonder if they would have lived had they been with their mothers warm bodies instead of little sheds with only their own body heat to protect them from the cold.
The temp lady I worked with was the only other one who spoke English. I mentioned how the work wasn't too great for my weak back and that maybe I aught quit since it was too far away for me to feel safe driving. If the weather got really bad I wouldn't be able to get out at all. Plus I wasn't sure if it was worth the pay/gas ratio since I found out we were paid less than 8 dollars an hour and the drive took a half-hour of highway travel. She mentioned that she had a daughter who might be in need of work soon so I called the agency at lunch to let them know that I couldn't take the job. After all the breaks they gave me that afternoon I'm glad I did. If it was like that every day I wouldn't be earning even gas money.
(So there you go. All my excuses wrapped up in a little package. I could handle most everything else. It was the danger of travel plus the pay that finally made me feel ok with saying, "I quit." I may have also been scarred for life seeing how they treated the dead baby cows. I know it's a company, I know what cows are for, they're just livestock bred for human consumption, I get it, but you don't leave dead cows among live ones and you don't have to put your dirty boots on a dead baby cow, whose fellows you fed so tenderly just earlier that day, and laugh. You don't get to do that unless you're a big game hunter and you shot an animal yourself. That's an accomplishment worth having a victory over. Not a dead baby cow who died from cold in your cramped pens. That's just sick.)
I was still on the wave of calm feelings Sunday evening when I received a phone call from the temp agency about my job starting on Monday. This was the first that I'd heard that I had the job. Apparently I'd accepted this one without meaning too. So the next morning, 4 am, completely unprepared, I headed out to a dairy farm to feed and water baby cows. It was dark and the roads were icy, I have no snow tires and my little clunker clutch car doesn't like to go much above 60. I hydroplaned at least ten times on the way to work. Then I found out that most of my co-workers could barely speak a lick of English. Fortunately the job was the kind that you could mime a lot of it and they were very nice.
My job was to feed and water all 400 baby cows and bottle feed the littlest ones. They ranged in size from small labradors to maybe a mastiff. The youngest couldn't even stand yet and wouldn't take the bottle. Each cow had it own ten foot by three and a half foot pen with over half of it being a little shed. They stood up on fresh hay and had vaccinations and were fed organic grains if they weren't having milk. The ground was cold and hard until about one o-clock in the afternoon when we started wading ankle deep in mud. Before lunch the boots I had brought had already leaked through so they gave me some company boots. One boot leaked and by the end of the day my socks on my right foot were completely black.
I saw three dead baby cows during my shift. One we discovered that morning and it was still in it's pen when I left. I saw another around lunch time laying in a corner in the pasteurization room, and another one just as we were finishing the last round of watering. By the empty spaces in the pen rows I could tell that this is normal. It is farm work, babies are known to die. I get it. Farmer's do have to factor in the death rate for their stock. Still, I can't help but wonder if they would have lived had they been with their mothers warm bodies instead of little sheds with only their own body heat to protect them from the cold.
The temp lady I worked with was the only other one who spoke English. I mentioned how the work wasn't too great for my weak back and that maybe I aught quit since it was too far away for me to feel safe driving. If the weather got really bad I wouldn't be able to get out at all. Plus I wasn't sure if it was worth the pay/gas ratio since I found out we were paid less than 8 dollars an hour and the drive took a half-hour of highway travel. She mentioned that she had a daughter who might be in need of work soon so I called the agency at lunch to let them know that I couldn't take the job. After all the breaks they gave me that afternoon I'm glad I did. If it was like that every day I wouldn't be earning even gas money.
(So there you go. All my excuses wrapped up in a little package. I could handle most everything else. It was the danger of travel plus the pay that finally made me feel ok with saying, "I quit." I may have also been scarred for life seeing how they treated the dead baby cows. I know it's a company, I know what cows are for, they're just livestock bred for human consumption, I get it, but you don't leave dead cows among live ones and you don't have to put your dirty boots on a dead baby cow, whose fellows you fed so tenderly just earlier that day, and laugh. You don't get to do that unless you're a big game hunter and you shot an animal yourself. That's an accomplishment worth having a victory over. Not a dead baby cow who died from cold in your cramped pens. That's just sick.)
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