When I started this blog lord knows how many years ago, it was a way for my friends and family to check in on my nonsensical mental ramblings from time to time. I'm not cool enough to think that anyone really cares what I'm doing or thinking about on a day to day basis, but this blog was an excuse for me to not write each and every one of the people that cared enough to ask me what I've been up to lately on an individual and regular basis. Want to know what I've been up to lately? Check the blog -- I probably won't return your emails or calls.
Well, aside from some random postings here and there, I've done a piss poor job returning calls and emails as well as keeping this blog up-to-date. Er, sorry?
Last week, I promised myself that I would do a better job posting personal updates on this blog. I swore this at 7am on Monday morning as I tried to motivate myself to be more productive on all fronts -- career, fitness, love, life and personal expression. Well, fitness won out, and I made it to Yogaworks in time to do two back to back sculpt and yoga classes. Then career and life took over as my week became consumed by more pressing demands -- job searching, networking, urgent emails, making plans with friends, driving all over northern California, yada yada. My intentions of being introspective, thoughtful and creative (along with keeping my friends and family posted) went flying out the window, followed shortly by resolutions to eat healthier.
So here I am on a Saturday night, a week late on my new resolve to write more. Well, a gal's got to start somewhere, so let's pretend it's still Monday, and let me tell you about last (last) week.
It was a week of learning my own limits. Despite my tender spinster age of 32, I still don't quite know when not to push the envelope. This is what I learned this week.
I thought I was being productive when I schedule back-to-back meetings along the peninsula on Monday. The day started early with my third post-op appointment in Redwood City, followed by a coffee meeting/informational interview in Mountain View, followed by a meeting with a recruiting/temp agency in San Bruno. By the time I made it back to Concord around 7pm, I had spent the entire day in meetings or in my car. I was overcaffeinated, underfed, and dehydrated, and my body declared war when both my feet cramped painfully. I wanted to go to the gym. I wanted to catch up on email. I wanted to relax. I was so tired and my feet hurt so much that I could do none of the above. Everything I wanted to do on Monday night got pushed to the rest of the week. My attempts to be efficient completely ignored personal and mental health, and in the long run, I was less efficient.
No, bikram and scotch don't mix. Really.
If Monday night wasn't evidence enough that it's important to listen to my body, I thought I'd test the theory again. Wednesday was a busy day, and after a long day of emails, phone calls, and research, I hit the bikram studio and made plans to meet a friend for drinks.
Big mistake. Bikram dehydrated me, and I didn't make time to eat (again). By my third drink, I was piss ass drunk. Fortunately, my friend took my car keys away. Unfortunately for him, I spent the night worshipping porcelain.
While I've had my share of evenings where I may not remember specific comments or conversations (it's usually because it's been a long night where I've had lots of conversations, not because I've been too drunk to remember). I've always known where I was or what I was doing no matter how many drinks I've had. Three drinks gets me pleasantly buzzed, not crazy hammered. So, I'm a little freaked that there's a huge chunk of time on Wednesday -- midnight to 4:30 -- that I don't rememer. I remember blowing chunks, and then the next thing I know, my alarm is going off at 4:30am. Why it would have been set to 4:30am is a mystery to me.
I embarrassed with my behavior, I feel terrible that my friend had to take care of me, and I'm lucky that nothing worse happened to me. I've never experienced that before and don't want to again. Next time, I won't go to yoga, or I'll cancel drinks. I don't think I can have it both ways.
It does really come back to bite you in the ass.
Thursday -- drunk, nauseous and hung over. Friday -- exhausted from Wednesday and Thursday. Did I get everything I wanted to get done this week done? In retrospect, my efforts to try and cram too much into my days backfired. One of the reasons I left New York was for a better quality of life, but I'm having a hard time leaving my New York habits behind. I need to work on taking better care of myself, knowing my own limits and not overextending myself.
...And, the silver lining...
A lot of my past week was spent stressed that I didn't get everything on my to-do list done, angry with myself because it was my fault that I didn't get my to-do list done, and embarrassed that someone had to take care of me. I'll admit, I was a little depressed and spent a few hung-over days wallowing in self-pity.
So I'm glad something pulled me out of my self- and alcohol-induced funk. Well, someone. A boy, actually.
I think we might be dating, but I'm not sure. I kind of like it this way -- it's a nice, sweet and innocent sort of uncertainty. The kind that comes from two people who're slowly getting to know each other better. We're probably both trying to figure out if we're going to end up friends or something more. While I don't know what I want yet, I do know that there's something about being around him that makes me happy. I really like spending time with him.
He surprised me on Saturday night with beautiful drive over the GG Bridge and into Marin. We had dinner at the Parkside Cafe on Stinson Beach, had drinks in Bolinas, and made a pathetic attempt to identify constellations from off of the Shoreline Hwy before heading back to SF. Even if we weren't on a date and we're just two friends out for dinner, the night still qualifies as one of the best dates I've ever been on. Spending time with the boy made what was a pretty crappy week end in a good way.