Today is my day!

This weekend is going to be crazy town for me! I'm booked for Mother's day Sat/Sun. Friday can book up still. Tomorrow I have my Guinot training class in the morning, so it's still work related on my day off. SO today I have nothing planned. I'm going to walk the dog, pay rent then come back home, and work on my book. I promised myself I would. It is going to be a total PJ day. I've been doing my cleanse, but I can't commit to it. I keep going off plan. A bit of chocolate, a glass of wine with a friend, I'm self-sabotaging all over the place. I'm a little disturbed by how much I think of food. If it was sex, I'd be a total pervert or a 16 year old boy.

Deciding my meal is an actual though process, what have I got, what can I make or buy? Love thinking about it. We watch food competitions, and I pause the TV to tell Scott what I would make with the stuff in the mystery basket/required ingredients/inspiration. The scary thing is I'm getting to the point where I'm calling what these chefs are making before they say it. I'm tossing down words like confit and gastrique. And I know what I'm talking about. Total freakin' addict.

I'm still trying to hold on to my chill attitude from Vegas(Thank you again, Patti) So funny, I went to party town, and chilled like I was in the Bahamas. I went to yoga yesterday, and twitched the whole time like my pacemaker was going off. Twitch, adjust, wiggle, sigh, repeat. I could not lay still, I could not let go of my thought patterns, I was constantly planning things, people to email, people to introduce, things I should be doing, little extras everywhere, distraction distraction distractions!

Honestly, that damn book ROGP should have been written 2 years ago, Dora's couch should have been finished 8 years ago, Amitu should have been finished 3 years ago, and Harrapa...sigh...Dear Harrapa, my Lord of the Rings/Beowulf with amazons, should be concrete by now, the story is in my head, I have millions of scenes with the different characters complete with dialogue.

Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, folks. And I almost have 3 books written, I almost have 5 more plotted in my head. All that is left is completion, the actual performance. Believe me, I wish people could see the circus in my head. It would be so much easier than trying to describe it and have it make sense. How to tell someone everything, yet not reveal too much. I know it doesn't have to be Shakespeare, but somewhere in my flinty little heart, I desperately want it to be. Oh hell, I'm going to go walk the dog.

Something is churning, and something is changing for me. Each weight loss has led to another aspect of myself being revealed, not always pleasant aspects of myself. And each time I've had to face, embrace, or dispense with old behaviors, patterns, thoughts, or OCD nonsense. This churning is a rebellion of sorts. I cannot pin it down or decide if it is an embraceable quirk. It was a flawed defense mechanism that I have managed to soften into a less offensive sense of humor, but I am struggling with it. I have pushed myself to be more responsible, and more confident than I felt at the time.

I haven't been making leaps of faith, I've been zip-lining over Oh Shit Canyon for a decade. I have done all the things in my 30s that I was frightened of in my 20s. I graduated college, I lost my weight, I moved out of state, I wrote things that were published(even internationally), I interned at MS magazine, I traveled to Europe, I got married again, I started and have maintained my own business, I have said Yes to the universe to everything I possibly could.

I'm tired...LOL Proud but tired. I'm pensive. Real questions need to be answered, but I don't know the questions to even begin to form the answers. So, I am waiting for the universe to present me with a more elegant solution than one I would have come up with myself.

Peace.