Ow, Ow, Ow
OMG Everything hurts. I can't believe I got a 90 minute massage yesterday. I want to just sit in a hot bath. I did yoga the past 3 days. And I did workout on Mon, Wed, and Thurs. God, I can't believe I had trouble remembering which days I worked out. The past three days have been a bit of a blur. Which is a blessing, since I quit smoking Tuesday morning. I haven't wanted to kill anybody, but I have been eating like I'm going to the chair. I made yellowcake and caramel icing yesterday because I was too embarrassed to go to Frosted Cupcakery for the third day in a row to buy the salted caramel hi-tops (mini cupcakes) I was getting like 2 a day. I guess the whole smoking oral obsession thing is kicking in. It's better than sex & gambling as an addiction, at least it's cheaper.
Yesterday, I had nothing left to give for that extra push. Kim said she was watching us, and we were all doing as well as we always do. Liz and I both said we could barely move, like we were dragging ourselves through the circuit. My right butt cheek screams everytime I sit cross legged. I'm proud though. I am doing it, in a month I'll be better, in a year I'll be a fucking monster on the overhead bars.
I did 100 deep squats on Wednesday. Even I can't believe my kneecaps didn't fly off like cheap hubcaps. I trembled and fell constantly doing a crabwalk round the bandshell stage. I've never sweated like this before. I've never labored to breathe like this. It's like something is breaking apart inside of me. A self imposed shell of withdrawal that made me believe I couldn't do things. I still find bits of it stuck to me, a self imposed shame of my body, or lack of ability. I still feel fear when I do things.
When I hit the ground hard and feel my knees shake, when I lift my ass above my head and walk on my hands feeling my whole body shake, and hearing the crunching noise in my head that my face will make when my arms give out and I face plant like a bad cartoon. But I don't fall, I shake quake and tremble, but I do it anyway.
I've noticed I've started writing on my story again. Work is going well, I'm getting booked, and doing outcalls on my days off. I'm getting 2-3 a day, which is pretty good. I keep thinking on my other books, scenes, dialogues, characters for all 3 of my partially done novels. I think I have found my rhythm, 4 days on, 3 days off, write exercise rest organize. I hope to finish my rat book by My birthday, and start farming it out to agents.
Yesterday, I had nothing left to give for that extra push. Kim said she was watching us, and we were all doing as well as we always do. Liz and I both said we could barely move, like we were dragging ourselves through the circuit. My right butt cheek screams everytime I sit cross legged. I'm proud though. I am doing it, in a month I'll be better, in a year I'll be a fucking monster on the overhead bars.
I did 100 deep squats on Wednesday. Even I can't believe my kneecaps didn't fly off like cheap hubcaps. I trembled and fell constantly doing a crabwalk round the bandshell stage. I've never sweated like this before. I've never labored to breathe like this. It's like something is breaking apart inside of me. A self imposed shell of withdrawal that made me believe I couldn't do things. I still find bits of it stuck to me, a self imposed shame of my body, or lack of ability. I still feel fear when I do things.
When I hit the ground hard and feel my knees shake, when I lift my ass above my head and walk on my hands feeling my whole body shake, and hearing the crunching noise in my head that my face will make when my arms give out and I face plant like a bad cartoon. But I don't fall, I shake quake and tremble, but I do it anyway.
I've noticed I've started writing on my story again. Work is going well, I'm getting booked, and doing outcalls on my days off. I'm getting 2-3 a day, which is pretty good. I keep thinking on my other books, scenes, dialogues, characters for all 3 of my partially done novels. I think I have found my rhythm, 4 days on, 3 days off, write exercise rest organize. I hope to finish my rat book by My birthday, and start farming it out to agents.
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