Feeling Groovy

Okay so it’s been a little over a month. Shoot me.

It’s been busy…but very GOOD busy.

I’m keeping this one quick and dirty.

First of all, I started working out. Not sporadic bullshit. Not paying a gym membership fees when I never go. Not reading the magazines while never doing the workouts.

SERIOUSLY WORKING OUT.

I finally just said “fuck it” and bought the infamous P90.

Actually, it’s the P90X that everyone is so obsessed with, but I wanted to start off slowly so that I wouldn’t get in over my head, get discouraged, and quit. So I got P90, which is sort of like the version where you get in shape for P90x.

It is FUCKING AWESOME.

Thank God I am blessed with the body I have. I am not fat or overweight. I gain muscle fairly easily, although admittedly, at age 43, it is going to take me a little more work to get where I want to be. But I am not in the position where I need to lose weight. I wanted to lose about 5-7 pounds of fat and then regain it in muscle.

This is already happening.

I was starting to see that hip thing that women get…that little edge that just sits on the hips and turns a curvaceous figure into something slightly grotesque. That…that was freaking me out. It was completely not permissible in my world.

And now?

GONE.

4 weeks in and it is GONE. My legs feel tighter…I am starting to see my 6-pack…my biceps, which never really went anywhere thanks to constantly hoisting one kid or another, are getting bigger…and my lats are coming back.

That last one is something I need to figure out. I don’t want huge lats and whenever I pay serious attention to working out, my lats are one of the FIRST things to explode. I gotta keep an eye on them. I mean, I like that they’re THERE, but I don’t need to look like a man with boobs. Especially when my boobs aren’t even that big to begin with.

Speaking of which, this has been on my mind for some time and I need to say this:

Man boobs.

ARE. NOT. COOL.

If you are a man, and you have any fatty tissue extruding from your chest…PLEASE. WORK THAT OFF. That is NOT ACCEPTABLE. Just…NOT.

Okay, I have spoken. Back to me.

I am so happy with the physical results, especially only about a month in. I have 2 more months to go. And I feel great. The Tech Guru says he can feel the difference too, and I feel way more energetic for…well, yes, for that, as well as other stuff.

But the biggest payoff by far, in my mind, has been mental.

I am just so fucking happy I don’t know what to do with myself.

I just feel…on top of the world. And things that I’ve been sitting on and thinking about doing for several month to several years, I’ve been attacking finally. With GUSTO.

On that list:

  1. I got my first tattoo. Not some small girlie butterfly crap on my ankle either. It goes all the way down my spine. And my tat artist is already working on the next one.
  2. I am commencing studies for my Master’s Degree. WHOO FUCKING HOO!
  3. I began the writing for an app the Tech Guru and I are working on, a spiritually focused app with positive affirmations and words of wisdom.

That’s just the beginning. I just feel…so energetic and positive, and I want to spread the love and good vibes around. Seriously.

So whatever you’re sitting on, been sitting on for years, tossing around in the back of your mind but not pursuing for whatever reason (usually has to do with thinking you don’t have enough time, or being fearful of failure)…that? THAT thing?

GO DO IT! Stop finding excuses NOT to do it, and MAKE IT HAPPEN.

Maybe you should start working out first. Not only will it give you more energy, but you’ll sleep better. And, you’ll be so psyched and encouraged by the accomplishments you’ll make physically, that you’ll feel better able to knock out some of those other challenges.

Okay, in case you are one of those people that just can’t stand all the positivity, there has been ONE thing that has been upsetting to me.

My grandmother.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t want to take her calls anymore.

She doesn’t call me that often to begin with. What with the Alzheimer’s, she just doesn’t reach out as much as she used to.

And that means that when she does, it’s usually a bad thing. Meaning that she ALWAYS WANTS TO TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER.

THAT…is not a road I feel like going down over and over and over.

I do understand that it is her daughter, and she needs to talk about it.

But she doesn’t understand, especially now that she is fairly senile, that this is my MOTHER. And I DON’T want to talk about it over and over and over. It accomplishes nothing but getting me into a funk. Nothing else happens. We don’t reach any answers, we don’t find any peace through these conversations, nothing happens. And it’s not that I don’t want to think about my mother. I do think about her, all the time, and I pray for her whenever I do pray, which is often, and for me, that works. But these around-the-mulberry-bush discussions in which my grandmother says the same thing over and over, why did she leave, why won’t she call, I hope she is okay…I can’t take those conversations. It’s all been said a million times already and for me, talking it out achieves nothing. If it helps my grandmother to talk it out, she needs to find a therapist. I can’t be the one she has this conversation with every fucking week. I just can’t.

So there’s that. And it’s sad because I like talking to her in general, and I do genuinely care about how she is doing, but whenever she calls me now, I find myself tensing up. She called me yesterday THREE TIMES. Hung up the first two times and then finally left a message asking me to call her back. I guarantee you, she is calling about my mother. Not because anything new has transpired, mind you. She just wants to go over it all…ONE MORE TIME.

I can’t do that. And I hate being rude and just getting off the phone but on the last call I just told her I had to go and hung up because I couldn’t take the incessant wondering and speculating about the same shit that we’ve been speculating for YEARS. I can’t do it. It is completely non-productive. It is actually COUNTER-productive. I refuse to indulge in counter-productive shit anymore, for any reason.

Otherwise…all is well. All is truly incredibly well.

 

 

 

 

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