Now that I’ve eased you back in gently (twss)

It’s time for everyone’s favourite game: NAVEL GAZING!

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Not nearly as exciting as naval gazing

The drugs I’ve been taking since early September are working great. My kid is healthy again. The architect is super. I have wonderful new people in my life that I didn’t have at this time last year.

There’s really only one problem.

Balance.

Still one misstep from tipping over.

Still one misstep from tipping over.

I still have none and what’s suffering now are two things.

Thing the first: the health stuff – the eating well and exercising. I have a 10K in 2 and a half weeks. I haven’t run in almost a month. So that’s going to go well. I have a half marathon in just over 3 months. One that I’m traveling for. I may be walking it. That’s a totally legitimate way to go 13 miles.

This used to be my favorite thing...

This used to be my favorite thing…

I miss running in a totally abstract way. I miss wanting to run and enjoying running, but I don’t actually miss running at all. I can’t even talk myself onto the trails, and I love(d) trail running.

I need more time or more energy or more hours in the day.

Every meme that says I have the same number of hours as Beyonce can bite me. Does Beyonce spend 2 hours/day commuting on public transporation? I doubt it. Also, she has a staff.

Every meme that says I have the same number of hours as Beyonce can bite me. Does Beyonce spend 2 hours/day commuting on public transportation? I doubt it. Also, she has a staff.

Thing the second: I kinda want to spend less hours commuting to work and being at work and working. I also want to continue to get paid because I like (well, like is such a strong word) paying my car payments and student loan payments and mortgage payments and eating. (I do like eating. That is completely sincere.)

The desire to work less seems to be at direct odds with the desire to keep receiving my paycheck. I need some kind of magic. Or to just move my office to the basement with my stapler and write all day because the money keeps coming and everything thinks I’ve been fired.

hqdefault

This session of navel gazing is brought to you by 5 hours of sleep/night (sleeping like a pro!) + writing every morning at 5 + a full-time job with a commute + family, both the architect & Bean and the wider reaching family…

Anyone have some advice on how to make the 3.5 year old start running with me? And keeping up? And not bitching about his legs being broken two blocks in? (Why isn’t he an athlete yet? Shorty.)

Creative Commons license.

Creative Commons license Attribution-NonCommercial 2.0 Generic

What I really really want is someone to come to my house and look at my stuff and say, “Amy! I can fix this! This is what we’re going to do.” And then that person will organize and rearrange my whole life and help me make and stick to meal plans and call me once a week to yell at me (in an encouraging factor) and everything will work out and I will live happily ever balancing work and writing and exercise and parenting and partnering and eating well.

So, if you are that person, call me!

Seriously.

call me

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