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.

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.

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.

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

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.)

Copied Lives

I have recently discovered that there's a belief that if we want to be happy just like Mr. Johnson who lives down the street you only have to follow a simple formula. Do exactly what he did and you'll get the same results, guaranteed, and you can live copied lives in your little copied, perfect, happy world together. Same job, same car, same family, same income, same everything. What could possibly be wrong with that?

Anyone who understands life knows that would be impossible. You can have the same opprotunities, but you're not guaranteed the same results in life. Even if you were an exact replica, copy, perfect image of Mr. Johnson and did everything exactly the way he did, you're not Mr. Johnson. To begin with he had different parents, met different people in his life and probably has different priorities and ideals. You could live very close to his example, but never exactly the same. Never copied.

I bring this up mainly because I had to travel a pretty sad path to get to this conclusion. I'll back up so you can see my process of thought here. For the beginning of the story, you'll have to review the last three posts.

After my stressful over-load and realization that I had no career to shoot for once I left college I had some time to think. I took a temp job and proceeded to quit it that very same day. I was still a bit depressed from the weekend before and the labor was hard with the added bonus of me freezing my feet in wet cow sludge for the better part of the day. You'd be discouraged too.

I felt guilty, but for the wrong reasons. I should have primarily felt guilty because it was the first job I'd been offered since I've been home and I'd only lasted a day. Instead, I was more concerned with how the ladies at the temp agency thought of me for quitting. Especially since I was so proud of my great work ethic and the reputation I had built last year with the seed factory. Now they would think I was a bum just like every other temp I'd worked with. You know, the kind that have every excuse in the book for every miserable story of their lives.

And the whole argument I had had with my sister still bothered me. I knew that the issue ran deeper than future plans or temporary jobs. Then somewhere between the bath and brushing my teeth it hit me.

It's positively exhausting basing your happiness on everyone else's good opinion.

It produces the kind of worry that would give a Greek statue a headache. I also realized that I've been doing this since kindergarten with authority figures like parents, teachers, temp agency's and occasionally even friends. It's not their fault, but mine. This is why I'm always telling myself I should be this or that because in my head someone is expecting me to be this or that.

I had somehow cultivated the belief that to have the high opinion of others you have to meet certain temporal expectations. If you don't meet those. You're a disappointment to everybody. (I blame Japanese Anime, they totally teach this all the time. It's the core of every hero plot.) Basically, if I wasn't pushing myself to my limits, I wasn't pushing hard enough. Therefore, I wasn't good enough. Therefore, I was a bum who'd be considered lazy and worthless the rest of her life.

This is a lie.

Staking your personal happiness on the good opinion of others is a task designed for failure. Because as any politician will tell you you can't please everybody, and if you try, you'll become indecisive on everything. In fact, the only times I've ever asserted myself above someone else's opinion is when the ethics of my family and church are put into question. And even then, on some things I'd slide a bit. Nothing is more sure to skew your view of right and wrong than to put the good opinion of others before your own conscience.

That night I was on fire. I listed to Mom at least a hundred things that made me a good person who is completely capable of making good choices for myself. There are thousands of good paths for people to choose from with scattered moments of "best choices" along the way. And each path is as unique as you or me.

Before I would have felt like the worst loser in the world for being unemployed and quiting that job. But I'm not. Because I have this good desire to finish school and become independent. I simply refuse to live off of my mother for the rest of my life. Just because I'm not employed this very second doesn't mean I'm a bad person. I'm still doing many good things in the meantime like writing novels, thrifting my clothes with sewing skills, and writing on my blogs. Because of that good independent desire I'm following, this small moment is nothing.

Constantly comparing myself to people who work themselves to bone is wrong because I am not one of those people. I am not their copy. Yes, it's wonderful that they can find happiness with work all the time and build businesses and achievements left and right, but that's not my strength. If I tried to do that, I might succeed, but I wouldn't be happy. In fact I'd probably be always stressed out of my mind. Writing is my strength. I can write from dawn until dusk if I'm in the mood. Some people can barely stand to write for five minutes. I can find a way to thrive on this skill. It is possible. I don't know where I'm going yet, but I know I can get there.

It's ok to take inspiration from other peoples good paths. But it is wrong to try and be their clone. All those old sayings like, "be your best self" never felt more true to me than they do now. It's funny how those things never seem that important until you have to live through the lesson they teach.

I think this might be the root of all the stress and worry that made me consider suicide last Fall. I mean how hard would that be to keep trying to meet EVERYBODY'S expectations and be perfect when deep down you know perfect is never enough for everybody? Shouldn't you answer to yourself first? I admire people who are able to go out and do what they want not because of their tough attitudes, or because they pick uncharted paths and succeed, but because they have the ability to choose their own good paths and not care what anyone else has to say about it.

I hope someday that I can be that strong in my convictions. I believe I'm on my way.

The Refiner's Fire

That phrase in the title is often used to describe God's way of purifying us through our trials. Sometimes the fire is a very-slow cooker made over a period of years and the personal revelations of truth come quietly and gradually. Sometimes it's a little faster and you have a sudden experience that knocks you off your feet.

In my case, it was the later.

The pressure started building four months ago. Mind you it wasn't uncomfortable or anything. For a while I had completely forgotten the "no" I'd gotten for my plan to become a full time personal trainer. (see previous post) I reasoned it away.

"Why would he care about which career I take? It's not like I can't be a mom and do this. What's the problem here? I think I'll ask again later. Just to be sure."

Then I came home for my "summer" (which is in the middle of winter) and the pressure began to build a lot faster. People who found out what I was up to wanted me to train them. No prices were discussed, but I knew at my current knowledge and experience level I probably shouldn't charge over 10 an hour. One lady who asked was an old friend of the family, I'd passed her in the super-market on a day when I was completely wiped out. I didn't respond well to her invitation. (I think I just shrugged and looked at the floor.) I knew that wasn't good. As a trainer you have to always be ready to solicit new clients.

Then my wonderful loving sister began to play devil's advocate. I love her so much more for this. She cared enough to tell me that my dream job probably wouldn't be able to pay the bills. Granted, I'd only researched the average income and not the cost of living vs how much work that would require. But still 30,000 dollars a year! That's a lot of money to someone like me. There was also the issue that I wasn't exactly the fittest looking person in the world yet either. She'd say it in different ways, but those where her two main arguments.

Anyway, she kept bugging me until last Friday I finally snapped. I felt bad afterwards and even though she reassured me that I hadn't hurt her feelings and my other relations said that it wasn't as bad as I thought it was, I still felt really guilty. She was bringing up good points, why did I have to get so angry?

Maybe there was some shame involved because I had done so well training five days a week at school. Then the holidays rolled in and we were on the road for what added up to a month. I also didn't have anyone who counted on me to be at the gym so...let's just say that while I haven't completely dropped off the workout grid I'm not near as frequent as I have been in the past. And it kinda shows. My dimpled belly has become all poochy again. So sad that it only took a few weeks and a pound or two of holiday chocolate.

On Saturday I sat down and made a list of needs and wants and computed about how much each would cost me. Then, since I'm no math wiz, mom helped me figure out the rest. I couldn't afford it. Simple as that. I could if I had the kind of ingenuity that's required in entrepreneurs, the successful ones easily fall in the top brackets, but I knew I didn't have that kind of get-go. Still, I'm stubborn and I still had a foot in denial. If I can do anything I set my mind too why couldn't I support myself on personal training? I read my patriarchal blessing and remembered the "no" I'd received four months before. (For those who don't know, it's a special personal blessing that members of my church receive from their patriarch when they've matured enough to take it seriously.)

That's what finally convinced me. I couldn't move forward with this plan. I was bummed and completely plan-less.

I hate being plan-less, it makes my independent fibers itchy.

I tried to think of other jobs I could do and enjoy. Nothing was coming to mind. I was completely stressed out and depressed. Ok, not completely, I've been worse. But I hated not knowing what I needed to do and I felt a little bit like a sinner for denying the revelation I had had four months ago.

I really wanted my Dad. He passed away when I was fifteen. I grew up believing that it was Mom's job to get me through childhood and Dad's job to get me through adulthood. This belief probably stemmed from the fact that my older sisters had a better relationship with Dad (who had little patience for whiny children) and I had the better relationship with Mom (who is the soul of patience.) But I couldn't have Dad so I went to the next best thing. My bishop.

On Sunday I scheduled the meeting. It was a fast Sunday which means anybody can choose to stand up and bear their testimony. Or if no one was inclined we could sit in meditative silence for a while. A couple of the brethren who stood up to talk talked about their past careers and what it had taught them. I got the impression that it's actually very rare for people to have a career in the field their major set them out to get. One brother had a dozen different careers in his life-time. I knew this brother. He was fine, his family was fine, they were ok financially which is all I ever wanted from a career. Did the education system just lie to us by giving us an absolute promise that wasn't so absolute?

When I talked to the bishop he confirmed that it is rare to have a career based on your major. Many people change their minds. Which begs the question, does college really help, or does it make you hate what you thought you loved? He counselled me to just finish school and to not worry about the rest. Since my aptitude tests were so even across the board with one tiny up-tick at English and writing, I could pretty much get a job where ever I wanted as long as I had that graduation certificate in my hands. He also told me that I'm at the time in my life where I need to graduate from simple daily scriptures and prayer they teach in primary (which does have a formula and has the purpose to build a habit) to the adult version of study and pray (which is a more personal search for truth and communication with God.)

I received a blessing and felt so much better.

Since then I've been having one realization after another. It's like I used up all my denial and can see everything so clearly now.

Tune in next time for: Copied Lives