Last year, I lost 40 pounds. I changed a lot about the way I ate. I changed how I thought about food. And I was under an immense amount of stress. That helped a lot.
Once people started to blatantly ask if I was sick, I stopped doing such an intense regulation of my intake and just kept my weight constant. That was good.
A year later, I began working out. Something that I had wanted to do for a very long time, I finally committed, with the help of my husband, to a daily (or more accurately: nightly) workout routine. He and I worked out every night for at least an hour, no matter how late it was, how rough of a day we had, or how tired we were. I saw results within four days. It was amazing and I was extremely happy. When I caught a cold, I had to slow down, but we're still working out more than half the week, for over an hour each time. I feel good about that, and its something we do together that is good for us, too.
Recently, I decided to take a journey to health. I felt run-down. My body was not happy, and I knew it. I looked into the eyes of my two boys, ages 7 and 1 1/2, and I thought, I need to get healthy so I can be here for them for a long time. I need to teach them how to be healthy; how to be active; how to truly enjoy living.
I've been a smoker for about 17 years, with the exception of the times when I was pregnant. I've tried to quit, and always came back to it. It was a staple of my life, and all of my social interactions seemed to revolve around smoking. The only reason my husband and I started talking was because we were both smokers. Funny thing, he quit smoking in February. He never gave me any shit about it when I would light up after he had quit. He knew I had to come to it on my own.
Last week, I decided that this week was my week. I was planning on quitting smoking, and committing to a healthy way of life, including eating more healthy and making sure to always have time outside, and be active, especially with my boys. Now, I'm not a hugely religious person. I go to church with my husband and our kids. I don't consider myself any particular religion. I believe in God. Whatever you want to call the greater being, I call it God. A topic for another blog, but in any case, on Sunday, I prayed very briefly for help with my quest for health, especially my battle to quit smoking.
It has taken me until now (the following Saturday night) to realize just how profoundly my prayer was answered.
On Monday, I woke up with a slight sore throat. I had to work at 6 am, so I powered through and went to work. About ten hours later, I had battled through chills, headaches, lots of customers, and finally arrived home. My husband took the kids out for 4th of July celebrations, and I went to bed. I slept on and off for three days. My throat hurt in a way I cannot even describe. On Wednesday night, I had my husband check my throat and he said I should call the doctor because it looked like strep throat. Thursday, barely able to speak, or even lift my head, I called. No doctor could see me, so I went to urgent care. One test said it wasn't strep, but the doctor said that it looked like it was. She told me to go home, gargle, take Advil and sleep. So I did. Awaiting test results, I slept and drank a ton of water, and realized that I hadn't smoked a cigarette since Monday.
Friday, I woke up, my throat still hurt like hell, but I spent the day outside, in the sun, watching my boys run in the sprinklers, and as the day passed, I felt a bit better. Saturday, I woke up, and my throat barely hurt. I was well-rested. I was happy to spend some time with my boys and my mom before i finally got to go back to work. I had missed five shifts, which had cost me at least $600.
And I also realized that I hadn't smoked a cigarette in five days. For me, that was amazing. To be happy, relaxed, enjoying my day, and having not had a smoke in five days? Unheard of. Until now, I would have said "Impossible!" But now, not so much.
And then, I remembered how I had prayed on Sunday.
Wow.
Yes, I suffered last week. I was in pain. I was tired, feverish, miserable. But I quit smoking. And I didn't make everyone that I love miserable in the process.
So, at this point, my goal is to keep the stress and negativity from the forefront. I have begun a process to leave a terrible habit of mine in the dust. I figure that if every cigarette takes seven minutes from your life, then every time i don't have the cigarette I would have had, it's gonna add seven lucky minutes to my life. Seven extra minutes to laugh, to talk with my boys, to hug them, to love them, to help make their lives better, and to help make my life, and my husband's life better.
And hey, who couldn't use a little extra time to run around, flailing your arms, singing, dancing, eating, drinking, and spreading some contagious happiness?
Here's to my new life....again.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Bad Behavior
I've recently been reminded of an issue that seems to come around in waves, usually coinciding with the coming of age or birth of new social groups. Unfortunately, it is a lesson that each must endure and learn in their own time, sometimes to the complete annihilation of their social life. With that in mind, I'd like to offer my opinion and insight, from my own experiences, in order to possibly (but not probably) save at least one person from burning every bridge they have.
The issue is bad behavior. More specifically, bad behavior while enjoying time with friends. And even more specifically, bad behavior while enjoying time with friends while intoxicating oneself and others with various alcoholic beverages.
Also known as "Doing Stupid, Mean, Dangerous, or otherwise Rude Shit While Drunk."
I think all of us have had the bad night of drinking where we misbehave. Some of us cry. Some get angry. Some just become mean. Every once in a while. We are all allowed to have a bad night.
The problem begins when you have those bad nights more often than the good nights.
If you find yourself apologizing to your friends every "morning after", then I can safely say that you have adopted the "abusive boyfriend" habit and need to take a serious look at yourself. I call it that because, like the abuser, you get drunk, treat people like shit, and the next day, apologize, probably even genuinely. But the next time you go out, you do the same thing. Just so you know, your apologies will quickly become less and less valuable. People will start to expect you to act like a two-year-old and then call or text: "I'm sorry, friend" and, over time, they will either write you off, or become numb to you.
If you find yourself questioning whether or not you are misbehaving, then you probably are, at least a little. You now have a very important decision to make.
Do you want to:
If you chose "1", you probably are doing stupid, mean, dangerous, and/or rude things every time you drink and you don't care about others feelings in general. Keep at it, and enjoy making new friends, because your current friends won't be around much longer.
If you chose "2", you have to make sure you are truly aware of your actions, and you might consider asking a close friend to "chaperone" you for a while, just to make sure.
If you chose "3", you'll probably realize how annoying drunk people are when you're the only sober one, and either not hang out anymore, or learn from their idiocy, which leads to option "2".
There are probably other options, but these are the simplest ones.
Basically, if you don't want to be known as "The <insert derogatory term here> Drunk", either
change your drunk behavior or stop drinking.
It's not that difficult. Don't be a bitch, or an asshole. Don't start fights, or engage in "pissing contests". Don't slut around (although that always brings good entertainment and gossip later). Don't be stupid. Don't drive. Don't vandalize.
If you're going to play with the big kids, learn to act like a big kid. Have fun, be nice, dance, sing, and laugh.
Learn how to be the life of the party, instead of the buzz-kill.
The issue is bad behavior. More specifically, bad behavior while enjoying time with friends. And even more specifically, bad behavior while enjoying time with friends while intoxicating oneself and others with various alcoholic beverages.
Also known as "Doing Stupid, Mean, Dangerous, or otherwise Rude Shit While Drunk."
I think all of us have had the bad night of drinking where we misbehave. Some of us cry. Some get angry. Some just become mean. Every once in a while. We are all allowed to have a bad night.
The problem begins when you have those bad nights more often than the good nights.
If you find yourself apologizing to your friends every "morning after", then I can safely say that you have adopted the "abusive boyfriend" habit and need to take a serious look at yourself. I call it that because, like the abuser, you get drunk, treat people like shit, and the next day, apologize, probably even genuinely. But the next time you go out, you do the same thing. Just so you know, your apologies will quickly become less and less valuable. People will start to expect you to act like a two-year-old and then call or text: "I'm sorry, friend" and, over time, they will either write you off, or become numb to you.
If you find yourself questioning whether or not you are misbehaving, then you probably are, at least a little. You now have a very important decision to make.
Do you want to:
- Continue on as you are, because you like it and if people can't handle it, then they just shouldn't hang out with you
- Take note of what you do and say while drinking, and be conscientious of your actions
- Quit drinking and reassess your social life
If you chose "1", you probably are doing stupid, mean, dangerous, and/or rude things every time you drink and you don't care about others feelings in general. Keep at it, and enjoy making new friends, because your current friends won't be around much longer.
If you chose "2", you have to make sure you are truly aware of your actions, and you might consider asking a close friend to "chaperone" you for a while, just to make sure.
If you chose "3", you'll probably realize how annoying drunk people are when you're the only sober one, and either not hang out anymore, or learn from their idiocy, which leads to option "2".
There are probably other options, but these are the simplest ones.
Basically, if you don't want to be known as "The <insert derogatory term here> Drunk", either
change your drunk behavior or stop drinking.
It's not that difficult. Don't be a bitch, or an asshole. Don't start fights, or engage in "pissing contests". Don't slut around (although that always brings good entertainment and gossip later). Don't be stupid. Don't drive. Don't vandalize.
If you're going to play with the big kids, learn to act like a big kid. Have fun, be nice, dance, sing, and laugh.
Learn how to be the life of the party, instead of the buzz-kill.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Great life lessons learned at the deli
Tonight, at the deli, my very last table was a very old couple who comes in about twice a month. They are crotchety and argumentative and bicker at each other the entire time they're there. She is frail, in a wheelchair, until he helps her into her seat, and he is also getting to the point of being frail, but not quite there yet. His voice is gruff, and hers, well, about the same. Tonight, she had painted her nails and put lipstick on (properly, mind you, not all over the place like some would do). Her hair is done, and his is combed-over.
The first time I met them, they were a servers worst nightmare. Nothing was right, and not only was there nothing I could do to make anything better, but they were determined to make sure I knew it. Several times after that, I felt the weight of dread come over me anytime I saw them parking in the lot. I gritted my teeth through the entire meal, knowing that I would have to give them some kind of compensation for the sub-standard meal they were forced to endure. They were the epitome of a server's worst day on the job.
And then, one day, we got to talking. I learned that she had been a teller in a bank in Beverly Hills and that they had lived all over the country. She told me stories of famous people she would help at the bank, the most notable being Fred Astair. They had nice, loving stories to tell of each other and their life together. I was amazed at the fact that they hadn't written a book about their amazing journey in life. They became two of my favorite customers.
Tonight, they still bickered. Their first argument was because she was using a fork to get a pickle out of the jar, and he told her to use the tongs that were provided, and she finally told him to shut up and let her do it. I chuckled, but thankfully, they didn't notice.
She ordered her vegetable quesadilla. I knew already to write down that the veggies had to be chopped up and cooked well, so that I wouldn't have to hear, yet again, how ridiculous it is for restaurants to expect people to eat vegetables that aren't mushy.
He wasn't ready yet, and told me to put in her order while he decided.
When I returned, she asked for a cup of coffee, and then slid the creamer bowl to the end of the table and said "these are all dirty!" He made a comment about how the busboy must be sleeping, and I looked into the bowl to see that half of the creamers were opened, and used. I scoffed and said "why do people put used creamers back in the bowl?", intending it to be a rhetorical question.
He quickly replied "Because they're stupid! Stupid idiots!"
And I whispered to him "Thank you for saying it for me. I'm not allowed to say things like that."
I smiled, and they both smiled back.
This brings me to my point:
Everyone has a story. Just take the time to consider that.
Realize that there is a reason, or more likely, many reasons, why people behave the way that they do. There are volumes upon volumes of history behind every face, every action, of every person you encounter. You also have a story. Think about how good it would be if other people took the time to think about that. Take that cue, and always remember to think about the story.
The second point: I want to be those two old people when I grow up, if I grow up. They're honest, and don't hold back. They show their feelings and don't feel badly about it. They are kind and caring people. They have lived a great life adventure. Separately and together. And who can ask for more than that?
Life is an adventure, so take lots of pictures, learn from the struggles, relish in the good times, and be prepared to share your story.
And just for fun, speak your mind.
The first time I met them, they were a servers worst nightmare. Nothing was right, and not only was there nothing I could do to make anything better, but they were determined to make sure I knew it. Several times after that, I felt the weight of dread come over me anytime I saw them parking in the lot. I gritted my teeth through the entire meal, knowing that I would have to give them some kind of compensation for the sub-standard meal they were forced to endure. They were the epitome of a server's worst day on the job.
And then, one day, we got to talking. I learned that she had been a teller in a bank in Beverly Hills and that they had lived all over the country. She told me stories of famous people she would help at the bank, the most notable being Fred Astair. They had nice, loving stories to tell of each other and their life together. I was amazed at the fact that they hadn't written a book about their amazing journey in life. They became two of my favorite customers.
Tonight, they still bickered. Their first argument was because she was using a fork to get a pickle out of the jar, and he told her to use the tongs that were provided, and she finally told him to shut up and let her do it. I chuckled, but thankfully, they didn't notice.
She ordered her vegetable quesadilla. I knew already to write down that the veggies had to be chopped up and cooked well, so that I wouldn't have to hear, yet again, how ridiculous it is for restaurants to expect people to eat vegetables that aren't mushy.
He wasn't ready yet, and told me to put in her order while he decided.
When I returned, she asked for a cup of coffee, and then slid the creamer bowl to the end of the table and said "these are all dirty!" He made a comment about how the busboy must be sleeping, and I looked into the bowl to see that half of the creamers were opened, and used. I scoffed and said "why do people put used creamers back in the bowl?", intending it to be a rhetorical question.
He quickly replied "Because they're stupid! Stupid idiots!"
And I whispered to him "Thank you for saying it for me. I'm not allowed to say things like that."
I smiled, and they both smiled back.
This brings me to my point:
Everyone has a story. Just take the time to consider that.
Realize that there is a reason, or more likely, many reasons, why people behave the way that they do. There are volumes upon volumes of history behind every face, every action, of every person you encounter. You also have a story. Think about how good it would be if other people took the time to think about that. Take that cue, and always remember to think about the story.
The second point: I want to be those two old people when I grow up, if I grow up. They're honest, and don't hold back. They show their feelings and don't feel badly about it. They are kind and caring people. They have lived a great life adventure. Separately and together. And who can ask for more than that?
Life is an adventure, so take lots of pictures, learn from the struggles, relish in the good times, and be prepared to share your story.
And just for fun, speak your mind.
Friday, June 13, 2008
A little randomness
I'm not going to philosophize about the new Indiana Jones flick, but I will tell you that it was a total "Indiana Jones" movie, and for that, I loved it. It took me back to the days when life was an adventure and all adventures were fun and worthwhile. Plus, my 4-year-old son sat at the edge of his seat for over two hours, his eyes never averting. And that's good enough reason for me to love it.
I just realized that I am addicted to stuff advertised on tv, like space bags and those detox stickers you put on your feet to suck out toxins. I want them. As gross as it is, I need them. Seriously.
Sad right?
Especially with all the shit in the world, here I sit, with my issues, that are probably miniscule compared to those things, and all I can think about right now is detoxifying my lymphatic system through my feet.
Oh well, tomorrow brings more of the usual challenges and then onto a great weekend (I hope).
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Trial and Error
Well, here it is, the very first of its kind. Well, in my world, anyway.
I'm giving this blogger thing a try and we'll see how it turns out. Honestly, the real reason I'm doing this is so I can keep on blogging. I'm getting tired of the MySpace drama and with all kinds of new people tuning into my MySpace, and with the immense difficulty it takes to create a "preferred reader list" on that thing, I need a new, non-MySpace location for the blogs. Besides, I just got my new laptop with Office 2007, and I can use Word 2007 to write my blogs which is way cooler than anything MySpace can offer. In any case, I digress…
I officially have 7 days left in Hell. Cubicle Land, friends. Next Thursday is my last day there, and my last day waking up at 5:15 am on a regular basis. Of course, if the restaurant needs me that early, I will be more than happy to oblige, but I am amazingly happy that I won't have to do it 5 days a week anymore.
It's late, of course, and I need to put my clothes in the dryer and head off to dreamland, so I will bid you all farewell for now. Hopefully, this blogger thing works out for me…. We shall see.
Good night, all…..
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