I need a plan. For weeks, I have intended to engage in daily exercise and writing time. I haven’t, unless Facebook comments count as writing and climbing the steps to the 3rdfloor of my work building a few times a day counts as exercise. It could, I suppose, since I have been blathering too much on Facebook, and climbing the steps increases my heart rate AND winds me, but these are too lame to consider, if not admit.
The problem is that I have made plans. Plans to walk on lunch or in the evening after dinner, plans to go or do yoga morning or noon or night, plans to play WiiFit with Andy…if we can find the balance board, and have batteries retaining a charge. Plans to go skiing and partake in trial memberships at gyms on days off. But life has been full of changes, lately, and I am having a hard time sticking to the plans or figuring out any that can work.
Just wait, I said, at first. See how things work out. (Things, not me, you notice.)
The few mornings I woke early enough to walk it was bitterly cold avec ski jacket, hat, scarf and gloves. The need to arrive at my place of employment 45 minutes to an hour before the work day begins, because significant portions of the almost adequate amount of parking normally available are reserved for the seasonal workers the first few months of the year encroaches on morning yoga class. When I get home at night it is too late, too dark, and I am too tired to get my juices flowing through my body or my brain, but not tired enough to sleep, so I can awaken earlier and have more time in the morning.
Now it’s late January, and the reality of my life, I have realized, is that the only constant is constant change.
Weeks turned into a month, while I figured this out, and I turned into a blob. Blobs don’t exercise or write clever repartee. They do their work, go home, see who likes them on Facebook, and spend the rest of their time sleeping…or trying to sleep. Blobs look like they slid into their clothes, jumped into their cars with wet hair and put their makeup in the time of red lights on the way to work. Blobs have a horrid sense of time but a knack for timing. so they don’t stop at traffic lights as much as need to, to do their makeup well in the dark, wee hours of the morning. Blobs eat cookies and chocolate because they won’t go to the grocery store or make the time to pack healthy meals with the food they have. Blobs use energy complaining about what they can’t get done, instead of gaining energy from accomplishment.
I don’t like blobs, and I REALLY don’t like being one…
So, I need a plan – a plan that provides one hour each day for exercise, and another hour to write or do other things I need to do myself. – a plan that can become a schedule capable of weathering change.
Or maybe, I need a miracle.