Crazy Times

I have a friend who says the first year after divorce is open season on crazy.  Any time I’ve told her about a decision I struggle with… this man or that one, go here, go there, do this, don’t do that, she says, “whatever!  choose whatever; you’re still in crazy times!  You can do whatever you want!”

I like this.  And I shake my head about it too.  I mean, I don’t want to be crazy.  The whole idea was that I would do divorce more sanely this time around.  Because yes, I have done this before.  I was 23 back when I was single for long at all.  I like to think I’ve learned something in the past twenty years.  I’m trying to avoid crazy, not embrace it.

Turns out I don’t necessarily have to try one or the other.  Crazy just happens.

Now, I know you might think I mean with all those men drooling over me, alert with desire, waiting for their chance to spin me around the dance floor.  Well, I could mean that.  But no. That’s a different post.

I’m talking about my current situation with work, how I spend my time, and the inherent challenges there!

Did I say I was going to bake soon?  Make candy?  Post food pics?  You’ll have to wait, I think.

I’m finalizing orders of our 25 year class reunion Memory Book, a thing I should have done in August (when I was moving and shipping BoyWonder off to school.)  I’m working on the football yearbook and its approximately 40 different versions for which I have taken literally thousands of photos.  (Just two pages of each version are different.)  And did you hear I’m writing a novel this month?  Fifty thousand words in 30 days.  We are half done date-wise.  I am one-third done word-wise.

My online teaching gig starts in January and my boss wants the curriculum finalized this month.  Of course.  It would be great to get that done now instead of over Christmas break.  (Still, privately, my goal is by the time Boy Wonder comes home from college.   That’s still before Christmas break.)

Um, also getting an on-line presence finalized for the hockey season where I hope to be able to market individual action shots and posters.  But I need some new glass in order to do that really well.  That’s about a thousand smackers. (oh, glass is trade jargon for lens, in case you didn’t know.)

Suddenly, sleep seems so overrated right when I feel I need it the most.  Something is definitely happening to my hormonal system and let me tell you, I do not like it one bit.  Yet, I am, little by little, releasing my life to its inevitable course.  (It’s like during childbirth; fight the pain and it’s so much worse.)  I want to be virile and vital and fertile forever.

And wouldn’t you know, just when I sense a shift, I still want to lose some weight.  Key for me there is  surrendering the delight of spiking my glycemic index.  I’m smart.  I read.  I know the science.  I know what I should do.  Now, doing it is a very different matter.  I’ve decided I might be verrrry happy to lose fifteen pounds… instead of 20 or 30.  Ten would be nice.  Five would be progress.

In the midst of all this self-employment, I’ve had the privilege to work out at the YMCA.  Still doing it!  Let me tell you, I think I look sooooo sexy doing Zumba but it’s not as hard as it used to be.  Sweat-wise.  Breathing-wise.  (You do realize me looking sexy has nothing to do with reality, right?  I mean, it only has to do with how I feeeeeel inside.  Like how those people on American Idol feeeeeel inside about their rotten singing.  I could be totally deluded here.)

At any rate, I am still working out in a big way at least seven hours a week if not eleven hours.  I could work out for a total of eleven glorious hours!  Not that I necessarily have that kind of time to spend.  (See the above list of projects.)  But it does feel good.  Dependably good.  I just have to push myself to tax myself as much as at first.  And that’s a good thing; it means I’m getting in shape.

All that said, trust me.  I do feel a little crazy.  I spend all my time doing what I love and I am paying attention to every little flavor!  No matter what happens next, I still intend to take a big bite out of life.  Every single day. For the rest of my time here.

This is just my rapid-fire apology for not doing what I said I’d do and posting a bunch of holiday cooking, baking, and candy-making posts.  Or it’s me-for the first time ever-broaching the subject of DAMN! my changing hormones.

Now was that a hot flash or just a wave of anxiety?

I think I’ll call it a little wave of crazy.  That works for me.

 

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