Thursday, July 28, 2011

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 82

Breakfast:  Handful of walnuts
Lunch:  Soup
Dinner:  Soup, slice of gnarly bread with butter and radishes, salt

Busy morning.  It looks like I will be attending one of those journaling workshops that my friend and I used to give, maybe helping a bit, but I am hoping that I can do some actual work there.  Man, if anyone needs to work on their inner process, it surely is me.  Hell, I could be the poster child for a Desperate Inner-Process program.

I also heard back from someone to whom I had been linked regarding the new home for the loom.  She was just about twelve hours too late, as I gave it to someone else last night.  By the time I finished with all of those telephone calls, which were pretty nice, because every one of them was with a person who was glad to be speaking to me, has never been snarky to me (at least not to my face, so I really do not care even if they did) and I made it through the entire morning, intact and not attacked. 

I was only four minutes late delivering the loom, and I called ahead to let them know that I was finally on my way.  I have to say that this loom thing worked out most excellently.  The looks on the faces of my fiber friend, her husband and her children were so wonderful.  They are thrilled to have this loom.  It really could not have worked out any better and I am wondering if all the false starts and misleads and aborted contacts and changed minds were necessary for this outcome.  Maybe.  It seems a bit to fatalistic for my tastes, but the process was interesting and this successful outcome might help me move these damn books out of here. 

I had a goal, one that I sort of half-assed joined about accomplishing something during the week.  I said that I would get rid of a thousand books before the end of the week, which is in two days. 

Not one book has left the building.  Not one has been put on a pile or in a box with the intention of having it leave the building.  Well.

So, I decided to do something easier and whilst it might sound stupidly easy, for me it is not.  It was, still is, to take every single does of my prescription medications every day, all week.  Now, that is not a big problem, because I take only two medicines, with a total of three tablets each day.  I even have them in one of those pill boxes that have a section for each day.  I even keep it here on my desk, as it is a rare day when I am not here for at least a few minutes.  Still, I forget to take the damn things.  If this works, I can add the supplements I bought and that are still waiting to be taken.

However, for this week, I have been doing just that, taking every single dose.  Such a small thing, but maybe it will create some new synapses in my elderly and increasingly calcified brain about how to find a habit and then not misplace it right off.  Now, I know that creating a habit, at least one that sticks requires one of two things.  The first is that you have to do it for more than a week.  I think that it takes a month or two or three or something, but certainly more than seven days. 

The second way to develop a life-long habit is to choose to incorporate something amazing into your life.  I would use chocolate as an example, but I have already done that one.  It is a nice habit.  I have long believed that if I had access to a partner, you know, someone nice who would not use our relationship and my love for him to make me feel shitty about myself, someone who was nice and had good personal hygiene, and was funny and made me laugh all the damn time or at least once in a while, that having sex might be a nice habit to have.  I could really get behind that and be so supportive and encouraging and available.  Like constantly available.  But, that is only a dream because I am too old, too fat and too ugly to even begin to hope to attract anyone who would be willing to take their clothes off (yes, I would insist on that) and have at it with me.

I try to console myself that all of my beauty is on the inside and it would take only the right, or close-enough-to-right person to see through my outer shell and be able to appreciate my creamy middle.  That is another thing that is not going to happen, because the truth is that no one will give you a second thought unless you have some modicum of reasonable attractiveness on the outside, where your outer shell resides.  And, I do not have that.  I am clean. I am well-groomed.  I smell nice.  I do not have a lot of clothes, none of them fancy, but they are in excellent repair and not too far away from contemporary.  Besides, I have lived long enough to experience that just about every fashion comes back into fashion.  Eventually. 

I remember reading someone's theory about reincarnation and that if you experienced no expression for sexual congress, that you were more highly evolved along the reincarnation process.  But, if that were true, my best guess is that if you had achieved that level of consciousness and evolution, that you most likely would not have any feelings of need or loss or desire to have anyone roll on top of you and make you sweat.  I have never experienced any of that rolling or sweating except in my exceptionally rich fantasy life.  I have had only one sex partner and it just never happened here, I was just never good enough at it to make it possible for, you know, that person, to, well, never mind.  I had absolutely no intention of writing anything even close to this.  My plan was to write about how all of this divesting seems to have a flow to it and that I have difficult days, good days and really kick-ass days in which I can release all manner of useful things out into the Universe, or at least in the city near me.

But, I am going to let it sit here.  I never come back and read any of these posts, and this one will be no exception.  But, maybe just letting it flow out of me will help release some of that longing, because it certainly is not doing me any good to hold on to something that is never going to happen.  Clearly, since there was no idea or intent or anything, it needed to be expressed somehow, so, so be it.  At least it is better here than having it unexpectedly spew out in actual, face to face conversation with some poor, hapless and unsuspecting person.  It would most likely be someone I know well and that certainly has no potential for improving our relationship and it is most unlikely that it would be a total stranger who could simply stagger off, thrilled to have escaped my unscathed, but with a very weird tale with which to regale their friends.  Hopefully not the police though. 

So, I am going to quit while the quitting is good.  Man.  Inner process work, here I come, and not any too soon.  Man.  Double man.

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