Tuesday, November 11, 2003
breathe
breathe
It's 5:15. What have I done all day? I've got half a dozen windows open; I start looking for a file, get distracted, forget what I'm looking for, check my email, go back to finishing the email I started, remember what file I was looking for… shit, I've got to get out of here or I won't have time to go home before taekwondo…what was I doing again?
I finish writing the email, send it off, shut down my computer, get in my car…god, I'm starving, I shouldn't have eaten that chocolate bar, I've gotta stop eating sugar, it only makes me tired and I'm starting to feel pudgy again…stopppit, I shouldn't be thinking like that….but I've gotta stop eating sugar, I should be stricter with myself… I should start exercising more, in the mornings maybe…
I leave work into darkness. Rain and blurred headlights. I get onto the highway -- where'd all this traffic come from? It's backed up as far as I can see. Almost get run off the road by a truck. Inch my way into the left lane, one lane at a time times three. Stop and go, foot never completely off the clutch. Finally get into fourth gear before having to slam on the breaks again. God, I'm starving. And I've gotta remember to swing by the dry cleaners on the way home…been meaning to do that for two weeks now. Damn, it's an accident.
It's 6:30 when I get into Cambridge. Starving. Forget the dry cleaners; tomorrow, I promise I'll do it on the way to work… Right, I said that this morning didn't I…I need to start getting up earlier…
Get home, what's this Fedex notice? Did I order something? I can't remember. If I can't remember I probably didn't really need it. I've gotta start being more careful with my money. I won't be getting paid for the time I take off at Christmas, I really need to watch my money…
Feed the cats. Feed myself. Why am I always so hungry? It's not like I actually burn calories sitting on my ass in front of a computer all day… Shit, it's 7:25 already, I'm going to be late for taekwondo. I've gotta start getting there earlier so I can stretch. Put my coat back on, find my keys, rush out of the house, rush to the school, rush to change, sit down to stretch, how did I get to be so stiff? Mr. Hwang claps his hands for class to start; no time to stretch out that pulled hamstring.
At this point my brain begins to melt. My kicks are weak, my right hamstring twinges when I move, I have no control over the direction of my hands…Mr. Hwang is making fun of me again…
Hurry up and take a shower, change, always the last one out…
Get home and think:
Stop.
I sit outside on the dusty old couch and I think:
Breathe.
The rain has mostly stopped now, just dripping from the trees, making muffled pattering sounds as it hits the leaf-carpeted ground.
Breathe.
Why do I get so tired? Why does just getting through the day take so much out of me? Every day, every goddamed day. Is this really how I'm going to spend the rest of my life?
Breathe.
I've gotta get control of my life. I've gotta start stretching more, so I don't keep pulling muscles. I've gotta start getting up earlier so I don't have to rush in the morning, because it sets the tone for the day. I've gotta be more efficient with my time at work. I've gotta start eating better. I've gotta be more focused. I've gotta learn how to relax. I've gotta start actually doing all the things I say I've gotta do…
Breathe.
I'm too hard on myself. I've gotta stop nagging myself. It's no wonder I feel so damn beaten up all the time.
Breathe.
I've gotta…
Breathe.
Rain. Cool, damp night air. Muffled pat-pattering sounds. Breathe. Take air in, let it out…
Breathe.
¶ 11/11/2003 09:25:00 PM
It's 5:15. What have I done all day? I've got half a dozen windows open; I start looking for a file, get distracted, forget what I'm looking for, check my email, go back to finishing the email I started, remember what file I was looking for… shit, I've got to get out of here or I won't have time to go home before taekwondo…what was I doing again?
I finish writing the email, send it off, shut down my computer, get in my car…god, I'm starving, I shouldn't have eaten that chocolate bar, I've gotta stop eating sugar, it only makes me tired and I'm starting to feel pudgy again…stopppit, I shouldn't be thinking like that….but I've gotta stop eating sugar, I should be stricter with myself… I should start exercising more, in the mornings maybe…
I leave work into darkness. Rain and blurred headlights. I get onto the highway -- where'd all this traffic come from? It's backed up as far as I can see. Almost get run off the road by a truck. Inch my way into the left lane, one lane at a time times three. Stop and go, foot never completely off the clutch. Finally get into fourth gear before having to slam on the breaks again. God, I'm starving. And I've gotta remember to swing by the dry cleaners on the way home…been meaning to do that for two weeks now. Damn, it's an accident.
It's 6:30 when I get into Cambridge. Starving. Forget the dry cleaners; tomorrow, I promise I'll do it on the way to work… Right, I said that this morning didn't I…I need to start getting up earlier…
Get home, what's this Fedex notice? Did I order something? I can't remember. If I can't remember I probably didn't really need it. I've gotta start being more careful with my money. I won't be getting paid for the time I take off at Christmas, I really need to watch my money…
Feed the cats. Feed myself. Why am I always so hungry? It's not like I actually burn calories sitting on my ass in front of a computer all day… Shit, it's 7:25 already, I'm going to be late for taekwondo. I've gotta start getting there earlier so I can stretch. Put my coat back on, find my keys, rush out of the house, rush to the school, rush to change, sit down to stretch, how did I get to be so stiff? Mr. Hwang claps his hands for class to start; no time to stretch out that pulled hamstring.
At this point my brain begins to melt. My kicks are weak, my right hamstring twinges when I move, I have no control over the direction of my hands…Mr. Hwang is making fun of me again…
Hurry up and take a shower, change, always the last one out…
Get home and think:
Stop.
I sit outside on the dusty old couch and I think:
Breathe.
The rain has mostly stopped now, just dripping from the trees, making muffled pattering sounds as it hits the leaf-carpeted ground.
Breathe.
Why do I get so tired? Why does just getting through the day take so much out of me? Every day, every goddamed day. Is this really how I'm going to spend the rest of my life?
Breathe.
I've gotta get control of my life. I've gotta start stretching more, so I don't keep pulling muscles. I've gotta start getting up earlier so I don't have to rush in the morning, because it sets the tone for the day. I've gotta be more efficient with my time at work. I've gotta start eating better. I've gotta be more focused. I've gotta learn how to relax. I've gotta start actually doing all the things I say I've gotta do…
Breathe.
I'm too hard on myself. I've gotta stop nagging myself. It's no wonder I feel so damn beaten up all the time.
Breathe.
I've gotta…
Breathe.
Rain. Cool, damp night air. Muffled pat-pattering sounds. Breathe. Take air in, let it out…
Breathe.
¶ 11/11/2003 09:25:00 PM
