Ups and downs
Getting started is really hard. Every night I'm gung ho to get out there and "just do it". But the morning comes and I'm thinking about all the work that is piling up, how stressed I am, how far away I am and I don't do it.
Oh, I'm making modest gains. I ran/walked 3.0 miles Monday on the treadmill. Sadie and I did a quick half mile this morning around the neighborhood. It is still unseasonably warm for November and Sadie loves going through everyone's leaf piles at the curb. Her legs are so short that when she jumps in, she usually is below the top of the leaf mound and she hops out sneezing and sniffing from all the leaf dust in her nose. But that doesn't stop her from hopping in the next pile. All the careful work of my neighbors to create tall, neat piles is for nought as the little whirlwind streaks through, smashing the piles in her wake. The City picked up leaves in our neighborhood today. She is going to be distraught when we next get out there. Her only consolation is that the leaves are still falling, so future fun awaits. I envy her ability to romp and play and have so much fun without any dread of what the day will bring. Ok, I do know she's a dog. But she is clearly delighted at all the wonderful world all about her.
But I am not delighted. My job is driving me particularly crazy right now. We've been short handed for so long, I can't remember what normal is. We finally make an offer to someone and my boss goes crazy - we've picked the wrong person, business is slowing and we'll have to lay her off, I should hire someone at a higher level and eliminate two people. I know he's worried about the economy, particularly after we've had such a run of mediocre years, but he's wearing me down. And he sounds like my dad used to, talking like we're getting ready to have to apply for food stamps if my mother spends one more dime.
I work all kinds of hours and when I go home, I want a glass of wine - that turns into a bottle - and plenty of gooey, carb-laden foods. The next morning, I get up, but I don't get up ready to work out. I resolve every morning to not have anything to drink that night and to eat a balanced, healthy dinner. Then I come in to work and start getting hammered for every thing that is wrong, or perceived to be wrong and by the time 5:00 comes I start looking forward to going home and having a glass of wine, a carb-heavy dinner and watching TV and just vegging out. It has become a vicious circle.
I'm toying with the idea of getting the doctor to prescribe me some of those antidepressants she's always pushing, just to see if they make a difference. I've always told the doctors that I'm not a depressed person. Dad raised us to be the "suck it up" type; we needed to "play the hand we're dealt". But I'm beginning to believe that attitude is elitist. If I would be better off taking drugs, I should at least consider them. I'll mull on that for a while.
Oh, I'm making modest gains. I ran/walked 3.0 miles Monday on the treadmill. Sadie and I did a quick half mile this morning around the neighborhood. It is still unseasonably warm for November and Sadie loves going through everyone's leaf piles at the curb. Her legs are so short that when she jumps in, she usually is below the top of the leaf mound and she hops out sneezing and sniffing from all the leaf dust in her nose. But that doesn't stop her from hopping in the next pile. All the careful work of my neighbors to create tall, neat piles is for nought as the little whirlwind streaks through, smashing the piles in her wake. The City picked up leaves in our neighborhood today. She is going to be distraught when we next get out there. Her only consolation is that the leaves are still falling, so future fun awaits. I envy her ability to romp and play and have so much fun without any dread of what the day will bring. Ok, I do know she's a dog. But she is clearly delighted at all the wonderful world all about her.
But I am not delighted. My job is driving me particularly crazy right now. We've been short handed for so long, I can't remember what normal is. We finally make an offer to someone and my boss goes crazy - we've picked the wrong person, business is slowing and we'll have to lay her off, I should hire someone at a higher level and eliminate two people. I know he's worried about the economy, particularly after we've had such a run of mediocre years, but he's wearing me down. And he sounds like my dad used to, talking like we're getting ready to have to apply for food stamps if my mother spends one more dime.
I work all kinds of hours and when I go home, I want a glass of wine - that turns into a bottle - and plenty of gooey, carb-laden foods. The next morning, I get up, but I don't get up ready to work out. I resolve every morning to not have anything to drink that night and to eat a balanced, healthy dinner. Then I come in to work and start getting hammered for every thing that is wrong, or perceived to be wrong and by the time 5:00 comes I start looking forward to going home and having a glass of wine, a carb-heavy dinner and watching TV and just vegging out. It has become a vicious circle.
I'm toying with the idea of getting the doctor to prescribe me some of those antidepressants she's always pushing, just to see if they make a difference. I've always told the doctors that I'm not a depressed person. Dad raised us to be the "suck it up" type; we needed to "play the hand we're dealt". But I'm beginning to believe that attitude is elitist. If I would be better off taking drugs, I should at least consider them. I'll mull on that for a while.
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