How did that happen, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.
Obsessions.
If you must know, this week's obsession comes in the form of a series of young adult novels by Scott Westerfeld. Maybe you'd heard of them? Book one: Uglies. Book two: Pretties. Book three: Specials.
At any rate, about two months ago, I started this fantastic routine of setting my alarm 30 minutes earlier than normal, dragging my ass out of bed right away, downing a glass of water and EXERCISING! And it was really paying off, too. Life was great, my body felt great, my food choices were improving on a daily basis. This new lifestyle was quickly becoming a habit I looked forward to.
Then I picked up Uglies. My focus redirected at head-spinning pace. Getting up early to read until the clock insisted I get ready for work because I'd read away every last possible free morning moment seemed like the best choice I could be making. This morning, as I instinctively reached across the pillow, flipped on the light and dove into the book (halfway through Specials, which was started last night), it finally hit me.
In a matter of ten measly days, my fabulous exercise routine was reduced to gloriously long stretches (no, not that kind of stretch) of lying down -- bed, couch, floor, no matter to me -- and reading. Just reading. Reading. Reading. Reading...
Single-minded. One-thing-at-a-time. Obsessed.
It rattles me that one's self-image can be so off target for so many years of one's life. It's not exactly that the notion of being a multi-tasker so deeply defined me; but I suppose sometimes you just don't know what you've got 'till it's gone.
Boy howdy, it sure could explain a lot, this revelation o' mine.
Perhaps this is why my school grades always sank while taking 6-7 courses at once but soared when narrowed down to 2-3 at a time. [Note to self: the few months each at Evergreen and UCSB are different since I was living on my own for the first time. One could put forth that learning how to take care of business is why I had to drop out of college; you know, seeing as I'm not a multi-tasker.]
Next, perhaps this contributes to my tendency to get overwhelmed, lose patience, shut down brain function when trying to be comfortable within a large group. Attending parties where there are lots of people who I don't know is always cause a bit of anxiety. I tend to find myself hovering around only those who I already know, all the while marveling at the husband's knack for diving into all sorts of fascinating conversations with strangers. It's not that I'm not a people person, it's just that I'm not a multiple-people-at-once person.
I'm really on to something here!
Indeed, I think I've been creeping towards this new self-awareness for the last several months. In February, as the holidays had worn thin and my waistline picked up the slack, I began to accept that my aging body is just going to have to look at exercise as a fact of life. Little by little -- and sheer force of will -- I managed to turn my daily work commute in to exercise.
Quickly, I realized that the walking alone was not enough; my body was already craving more movement. Nice! I spent the last couple of months diligently weaving an actual workout into 3-4 mornings a week, which I mentioned above. Along with this new habit, I have worked on meal plans, shopping locally/organically, cooking and eating at home as often as possible. Sure, it's time consuming, but the benefits are too significant to ignore.
It was finally clear to me now: all I have to do is take good care of my body and then I'll be able to do the other things I long to do, like write! Slowly and surely, I built physical strength, overcame the tendency to eat a pound of chocolate in daily sittings, and enjoyed the extra energy.
Then, summer arrived. Sweet summer, that mistress o' mine. Gloriously long, warm days filled with endless fun activities that surely cannot be passed up by any rational person. Trips, parties, concerts, events fill my every waking moment. The next thing I know, my workouts were bumped off the regular schedule and the summer reading list took over.
And here we are. Today. Clarity presents itself. Then confirms my suspicions as I bear witness to last week's powerhouse of multi-tasking come crumbling down around me. Turns out I don't have the willpower to just put the book down and exercise instead. The bod is stiff and sore from bursts of activity followed by long periods of stagnation (aka reading) and going out for food rather than cooking at home. Moreover, it turns out I don't have a clean record of not making scheduling mistakes at work. This morning at least five separate error rose to the murky surface. Blast it!
One thing I do have going for me is the willingness to be shocked and appalled by myself. That, and taking it straight to the written word. My goal when I started the whole diet/exercise thing, after all, was to work my way into including writing in my daily schedule once again.
Well, one out of three, ain't bad.
See?
One-obsession-at-a-time.
