I'd Take A Bow, Take It Real Slow, Take A Ride Down That Yellow Brick Road

So while I do like to organize things, I also like to procrastinate ans that means sometimes piles form and well... that meant my filing cabinet became a disaster. I bought the cabinet purely for my teaching stuff; every day I supply teach, I scour the classrooms for extra handouts, assignments and tests, and bring them home to add to my collection. My thought is that when I someday (hopefully) teach one of those classes, I will have plenty of resources to use. It's tough to say what courses I might teach in the future, so I tend to take everything math and science, as well as anything generic that peaks my interest. Needless to say, it becomes a lot of paperwork.

I decided to start going through my piles October 2011, and basically took everything out, and brought over everything I wanted to eventually be in it, and dumped it in front of the cabinet. Like this:

Yes, it was that bad. And this isn't actually a lot of the paperwork, just the random stuff that seem to accumulate. I think it had almost become a junk drawer, a bottomless pit for homeless things in my house.

So after over a year of randomly picking at it, and over a year of collecting even more resources, I finally could call the job complete. While I will always be adding and subtracting from it, it is at least organized and I can find things when I need them.

There is also a 68L plastic tub full of course binders of the classes I have actually taught myself so far. It's a little insane how much stuff I have. I guess most teachers keep their binders at school, but since I don't actually have a school, I get to keep it all at home. In the house that has no storage space. Can't wait to see where it all goes in our new house in 6 months. Hopefully I won't have to re-organize all over again!

Goal # 50 complete! (That puts me at 37% finished my list... good thing many of them are in progress!)

I Believe In The Faith That Grows, And The Four Right Chords Could Make Me Cry

What is 'the truth'?

Is it even possible to answer that question? My 'truth' will be very different from your 'truth', so could there ever be an all-encompassing 'truth' in the world? I don't think there could be. So truth must be a unique premise. Is the sky blue because I say it is? If someone agrees with me, does that make it universal?

So what then is 'my truth'? Three people could sit in a room and experience the exact same event and have completely different 'truth'. (Ask anyone in the legal system; eyewitnesses are useless). So irrelevant to what everyone else sees, my 'truth' is nothing but what I see. What I feel, what I do.

Does that mean I can control 'the truth'? If truth is a matter of individual perception, and yet I can surely steer my own thoughts and actions, does that mean I decide 'the truth'? Or does 'the truth' have to be more passive than that?

It's true that I am at this very moment wearing blue slippers with white snowflakes. But I chose to put them on. It's true that I often feel worthless and meaningless in this world, but I chose to let those thoughts take over until I really feel it in my bones instead of tossing the idea.

What if I chose to wear fluffy green socks instead? Or what if I chose to think that I am an important part of the universe? 'The truth' can change, and it's all up to me.


Creative Writing Prompt #58: A drunk man sits next to you in a bar, thinks you're his buddy and starts confessing 'the truth'. Write about what 'the truth' is.

You Can Never Say Never

Death was last seen in the auction room, looking worried
Cowering in the corner.
Since when is Death afraid?
Was Death itself for sale?
Was someone there just waiting to bid on the darkness?
Or was Death just afraid that we had learned to cope,
That we had learned to embrace the world.
Finally the light emerged to let us know the truth:
Life isn't fair, how it could it be?
But to combat Death, we must be alive.
To be alive, we must live,
And as long as we live,
Death will be afraid,
And loiter in the corner of the auction room
Worried that one day...
No one will come to wave a paddle for Death,
But all will smile and pay only for happiness
And life.



Creative Writing Prompt #276: Create a story or poem inspired by a line in a David Lehman poem: "Death was last seen in the auction room, looking worried"

I Don't Wanna Be Anything Other Than Me

I wish that were true. Today I wish I could be someone else. Hell, I'd even settle for just a better version of me. I don't really like who I am, and I don't really know how to change it. The problem is I lack the drive to just get up in the morning and do the things that I wish I would do, be the person that I wish I would be. Procrastinating is much easier, and apparently I like the easy road. Maybe it's because I typically don't get the easy road for much, so I take it where I can. And then I just end up feeling guilty for moaning about my big first world problems. Strangely enough, that doesn't actually make me feel any better about myself either. And around and around we go...

I have an amazing husband. But my luck and abilities apparently stop there. We've been fighting for years to get our own house (that may or may not happen in the spring, and if it does, I don't think it will be a house that we are entirely happy about, due to changing rates and mortgage rules). We've spent almost 7 years fighting with lousy tenants, the most current of which who has yet to pay rent on time since he signed the lease, and as I type is smoking in the basement (to which I am allergic). I have fought to get through school, to get into teacher's college, to get a (supply) job, to get more permanent jobs, and all I get is the carrot dangled in front of me that snapped back. I am happy to have supply teaching, but all it does is make me want a real/permanent teaching job. If I wasn't on a supply list, I would have moved on by now, and maybe have a real career. We don't really even consider having kids because it just wouldn't be a good decision right now, financially. I've been fighting for about 20 years to get my weight under control. We know how successful that's been. I feel like a victim, and I feel like I have been fighting for so long NOT to be a victim, and I'm out of energy to fight it. Everything I work for seems to fail. So why bother trying? At least if I stopped fighting, I wouldn't feel disappointment. If I could learn to stop wanting more in life for us, for myself, I wouldn't feel so let down.

I know we have it better than so many people in the world. We don't have to worry about not having enough food to eat, or shelter over our head. I don't discount that. What I resent the most lately is the fact that we've been trained to always push for bigger and better things. We've been told to dream big and go after those dreams. It's ingrained in us. But the whole "fall down 7 times, get up 8" isn't working for me anymore. I am so tired of dragging myself up just to get hit back down again. Wouldn't it be so much simpler to just stay down and stop taking the abuse?

The worst part is, the one thing that I actually can control (my weight), I can't even get my head wrapped around solving that problem. I mean the job, the house, we can do 100% right on our end, but there are still outside factors, hence why I don't have a permanent job despite doing everything that was asked of me and then some. My weight hinges on me and only me. And I apparently am incapable of even fixing that.

So right now I question what am I good for, in any sense?

I'm Blue, If I Were Green I Would Die

So I had a depressing realization today. In all honesty, I don't think it was a new revelation, I think it was me stepping out of denial. My weight loss attempts are not succeeding. Not because of my lack of planning, or because I'm not following the right 'plan', or because I'm not trying hard enough. Well, kinda the last one, but let me explain:

I have (almost) 30 years of programming in my brain that is messing me up. (About 20 of those have been spent on the weight loss roller coaster).

It doesn't matter if I follow Weight Watchers, the Cabbage Soup Diet, Blogilates (worth checking out), or a meal/exercise plan that I (or even an expert) create solely for me. It's not the plan that doesn't work, it's me. My plans are good. Most 'diets' are good (minus the Cabbage Soup, that's just dumb. And by 'diet', I mean in it's actual definition, "The kinds of food that a person habitually eats", not what latest plan and/or gimmick one follows to lose weight). I've had fabulous plans worked out and prepped, and even now, I think they were absolutely fabulous, perfectly tailored to me and no reason why they should not guide me to weight loss. I'll say again, the plan is not the problem. I am.

When Friday night roles around and I am feeling tired and ready to relax after a chaotic week, it doesn't matter what the plan says. When friends set out a bowl of chips while we play Clue on Saturday night, it doesn't matter what the plan says. When I'm craving Chinese food, it doesn't matter what the plan says. I'm talked about my fog before, the daze/trance that I seem to disappear into that can argue any logical reasoning not to overindulge, or to not skip a workout. But the fog always wins, logic never seems to prevail, and here I sit, still around 190 lbs. And it quite clearly has nothing to so with the plan.

So today I am at a loss. I'm tapped out. Not necessarily tapped out of desire to fix this, but tapped out of ideas. I've restarted so many times, I feel like I've tried it all, and then gone back and tried it all again just to be sure. But no matter which plan I follow, it doesn't change the result. I do really well for a few weeks and lose a good amount of weight, I fizzle a bit and go up and down for a couple of weeks, then fall off completely and gain a bunch back. And in the end, I make no progress and end up just frustrated. And still fat.

I don't know what to do now. I don't know what approach to take, I don't know how to change who I am and how I react around food. I need some serious behaviour modification, and I just don't know how to do it. I wish it was as easy as saying "just do it", or "stop eating things you shouldn't" or "eat only in moderation". But obviously if pat words were enough, I would be thin already. If those mantras were enough in those moments of fog, there wouldn't even be an issue. Maybe I still don't want it bad enough. Although I really don't believe that. I'd like to think that maybe daily meditation could work, or positive affirmations, or any fancy psychobabble gimmick, but I would miss one day and get thrown off the bus the same as before.

Bottom line, I have bad behavioural habits. I don't know how to break them. But until I do, I will not be successful.

I really just don't know what to do...

I'm Off The Wagon And I'm Hitchin' A Ride

Dear Wagon,

It seems that you and I have parted company once again. Here's how I see it:

We were pretty tight about a year and 30 lbs ago. I was comfortable with you, you seemed content with me. We made a pretty good team. Life was good. I was on track to becoming who I wanted to be. I had a trainer at the gym, I was going to Weight Watchers, I was on board. I was down to about 166 lbs. I felt great, and I felt like I was starting to look pretty good too.

Then the training sessions were over (too expensive to continue), and I gained some weight back. The holidays came and I gained some more weight back. I got frustrated with paying for WW for about 2 years to have lost (overall) so little, so I stopped going, and I gained some more weight back. Then I gained some more weight back. Then for the last 6 months, I have gone back and forth from 186 to 194. I feel uncomfortable in my skin. I look... not great. I feel overwhelmed with how much I have to lose now just to get back to where I was, let alone to my actual goal weight. And my dear Wagon, I blame you.

Exercise is never really too big of a problem, especially since I am training for a half marathon. Yeah sure, I have good spells and not so good spells. The not so good ones usually coincide with the times when I can't even see your wheels off in the distance, the good stretches I can at least usually see you bumping around the road ahead of me, just a few feet away.

But we really haven't been that great of friends this year, at any point. And I just wish I could figure out how to gain your trust again. I miss that comfortable seat, I miss your safe embrace. I miss the good feelings I get when we are working well together. And I hate that the devil on my shoulder is winning out over our relationship right now. But I don't know how to get rid of that evil voice.

You see, that voice tells me I can't do this. It reminds me constantly that I have failed so many times (which is true), and that logic dictates that I will continue to fail. The voice tells me things like "Well, you ate 100 calories more than you planned, so what difference does it make if you eat the entire carton of ice cream?" and "There's no point working out today; the 200 calories you burn won't put a dent in the pizza and garlic bread you had last night." And even with those non-logical points, the voice wins out. I have no real evidence indicating that I can actually do this for the long haul. Short successful bursts, yes; long term, obviously not (yet).

I hate that I still have hope that I can succeed. It really just torments me every single day. I hate always thinking about food, and I feel like if I didn't have that little inkling of hope, I could just stop caring either way about my weight, no matter what the number on the scale or clothes tags. But apparently my dear Wagon, you tied a tether to my ankle and no matter how far ahead of me you may get, I can't give up on the notion of climbing back aboard.

So are we really at an impasse? Surely we can be on good terms once again. I would really like that. But I think it means we need to be on the same page, and the devil that kept knocking me off your back needs to be in a different book, a different library, than you and I.

It seems, dear Wagon, that you have continued to believe in me all this time: why else would you stay with me, even if you were beyond my sight? So for us to be together, I need to believe in me too. I don't necessarily know how to do that, but I'm going to try.

I know people say you shouldn't expect weight loss to change your life; just because you are smaller doesn't really change your world. But I think for me it just might, because if when I succeed, that success will be what changes me. Not my size or the number on the scale, but the feeling of victory, of overcoming the years of being told I didn't do anything right. I'll have proved that I did in fact do something right, something for me, something amazing, something that I never gave up on. Don't get me wrong, that feeling of success is partially what scares me; I just don't know how to let go and embrace that confidence and pride in self. But I want to, I really do.

My dear Wagon, thank you for never letting me go. Please accept my apologies for thinking you had abandoned me. I hope to see more of you in the near future, as we become close friends yet again.

Sincerely Yours,

The Poster Girl

You're On The Road, But You've Got No Destination

So after weeks of training (sorta)... we did it! We biked 40 km to Lakefield and back (stopping for an ice cream once we got there). Naturally it poured rain on us for about 5 minutes, while we could see blue sky everywhere but straight up. But we would expect nothing less.

When I say training, I really just mean we took progressively longer bikes every Sunday for the last month or so. We biked out to the airport, we biked out to the zoo; we went from 8 km to 32 km. I am really glad we spent that time getting ready for it though. We aren't diehards, nor were we trying to beat any time; it was just meant to be a enjoyable bike ride. But I think it would have been excruciating if we hadn't done some practice beforehand. As it is, even with gel seats, it's an uncomfortable adventure for the butt! It was a really nice trip though, the path to Lakefield is quite beautiful. I think it would be a really nice route to take in the fall; the colours would be spectacular.

So that's goal #33, all done!