Friday, July 15, 2011
Metamorphosis of a Sort
177 lbs. Okay, it’s not 176.4, but it’s not 178.4, either.
Payday! Yes! Such a beautiful thing! The base of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow's_hierarchy_of_needs let Wikipedia explain it), food, clothing and shelter, are covered. Yea! I am not sure where Dr. Maslow would fit “cover overdrawn checking account” in there, but that’s been cleaned up, too.
I also had to fill out and get notarized paperwork to prove that I have the right to work in this country. Since the President had to run the same gauntlet, my theory is that in 1961, nobody was born in the US.
Somebody, some evil, ill-intentioned person, gave me a cold this week. Given the amount of time I spend on my own (I work from home. There’s no one else physically in the home, okay? I had to fill out a form promising I wouldn’t commit sexual harassment. How? I just want to know how?), this seems improbable, yet, here I was with the raw throat, blocked up ears, low grade fever (and it’s just so much fun when the little bastards pair up with hot flashes) and wimpy sniffles. In the middle of a phone conversation, a fever blister had the nerve to pop out on my lip and invite company. And I since I take a daily dose of lysine, it was doubly insulting. In case you’re wondering what I recommend for dealing with viral invasion: bore the little bastards to death. Get in bed and just sleep until they go. Half a bottle of Nyquil should do it.
Today is the third day in a row I have not been to the gym, partly because I didn’t wish to infect anyone with this and partly because I wanted to focus on mastering the new job (PAYDAY! Did I mention I got paid today?) and I did feel cruddy. And that makes me feel shitty. Not physically (the physical symptoms are more annoyance than anything else), but I feel anxious and edgy because I’m not exercising.
It’s wonderful. It’s a kind of backdoor confirmation of motivation (sorry if I sound like Jesse Jackson). This means I’m on the right track.
Another sign that I’ve changed my couch potato ways is that I signed up for the President’s Active Lifestyle Award (www.presidentschallenge.org). Yeah. The kid who did so miserably on the President’s Physical Fitness Challenge in grade school (and NIXON was the President), this a 180. I have to be active for at least 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week for 6 out of 8 weeks. If I succeed, I get a certificate. It’s not quite the sew-on badges that they had in grade school (my older sister earned a couple of those, I think), but it’s a start.
So, in addition to the weight loss (WHEN THE GREAT WHITE BELLY CHOOSES TO COOPERATE), the body shape I like better and feeling stronger and healthier, I will get a an award for making these changes. Now, there are folks who will sneer because of who the President is and will sneer at the program but you guys can just go straight to hell. I don’t care if I come across like an 8 year old striving for a gold star (and I got one of those on my work the other day), I am doing this. I’m going to get a certificate for physical fitness. Who’da thunk it?