I’m sad again today and I cannot figure out why. I know that I get all weird in the winter time, but I’m concerned that it is starting this early. Last year I think it happened around Thanksgiving, but maybe it was just offset by my relationship with Pear. I think I was also misinterpreting a lot of my feelings then in general, thinking they were based more on the relationship (and the subsequent end) rather than something deeper.
I was sleeping last night by 8:30. I managed to not sleep for ever and forced myself up at around 5:30. I woke up a lot throughout the night though, so it felt like I had slept forever. My bedroom window faces the LED lights of the Target Headquarters building- its my most favorite thing about my apartment. In the middle of the night I can tell the time by whether or not the lights are on. They shut off from 2am-5am, so if the lights are on, its time for me to wake up. I have by bed situated right in front of the window, which was an attempt to soak up as much sunlight as possible. It’s rather convenient for the lights too, as I only need to tilt my head up. Last night though, when I woke up at 12:30, I thought it was time to wake up because the lights were on, not realizing I had only slept 4 hours.
Yesterday I was so damn productive at work. But now today I am sitting at my cubicle not being able to focus on anything. I start on one thing and then get side tracked and then don’t resume it for an hour. I might spend 10 minutes just trying to remember what I had just stopped the first thing to do, and then by that time I’ve lost the gusto to do it. Joe thinks that I am just normal and sometimes people have bad days, but I don’t think this is like that.
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to lose weight, especially when all I crave is chocolate. I stepped on the scale this morning and am down 27lbs from my peak in August, so, why isn’t today a good day? I keep thinking that if I just lose enough I will be happy with the way I look, but I don’t think I look any different from how I did 3 months ago. Sometimes I wonder how far it will have to go or how much I’ll have to lose in order to be happy with myself, and on crazy days, I even consider that maybe my weight isn’t the real problem.
Currently I’m readying Happy by Alex Lemon. It was written about a time in his life, while at Macalester, when he was having health problems. I’m enjoying the book for a few reasons, and not for a couple more. First, it is nice to be able to relate to someone by being Macalester alumni. There are also elements in his childhood that really resonate in me, such as moving around a lot and living with a single (crazy) mother. I don’t like that it took about 100 pages to get to the part about the molestation, but maybe that had to come out at his own pace.
That is a part that I am struggling with in my own book. Where do I start? I feel like there is so much back story that is necessary just to get a good understanding of other things, that I would need to have like, a book that is an introduction to a book. I wouldn’t want my readers to be like “why the hell did she wait so long to introduce blah-blah?! This is the best part!”
I suppose I can be like Jenny Lawson and take 11 years to write it. I can just make sure I have a hella-ass long book written (maybe just chronologically?) and someone else can sort through the rest of the crap :) Lately all I’ve been enjoying is writing- I bailed on my painting class and haven’t been in the mood to bake… I always feel guilty when one thing consumes a large part of my life, but I’ve been talking for years about writing this book, so maybe I should just be happy and proud that I am finally doing it and stop worrying about how “balanced” I am for the rest of the world. Maybe. Probs won’t happen.