I've been feeling off for the past few weeks. I have been blaming it on my monthly lady business. I wish that was really the only thing bothering me. You'd think that for someone with enough passive income to get by, that life should be somewhat stress free. For the most part, it is.
I wake up every day, thankful to be alive, of being in relatively good health for a woman of my size, having my basic needs met, having amazing people in my life and never really hitting the red in the bank accounts. I normally am a night person, staying up all night, and sleeping during the day. I don't really have a set schedule, but generally I am nocturnal. Sometimes this changes, due to film shoots, appointments, lunch dates, or other random things that require I be up before noon. Bedtime is usually anywhere between the hours of 5AM and 7AM.
Yesterday didn't go exactly as planned. It was hard for me to get out of bed when my alarm went off. I had to deliver a bottle of fake blood at 2pm. I got out of bed at 1pm. I did my bathroom things, and my makeup things, and left the house shortly after 2pm. I was stuck in the horrible mid afternoon traffic, and I got to my destination at 2:30. I was already stressed at this point from the short conversations I'd had on Facebook while putting on my makeup. The people I had been chatting with had started out bitching and moaning, and I didn't want to hear it. I pushed that aside, and by the time I had sat down in the old recliner in the office, I just wanted to close my eyes again and go back to sleep. The promise of a chinese buffet lunch was what kept me in a decent mood.
I left the office with my 15 year old friend. Yes, I do have a friend that is 11 years my junior. He's the younger brother of one of my close friends. He's way ahead of his game for his age. We stopped at Half Price Books so I could try and sell a box of comic books someone had left in my possession. I found a book on the clearance rack for a dollar, and waited for my offer. They only wanted to offer me two dollars, so I kept the box of comics, and purchased my book. Then we were off for lunch. While waiting for his brother and our other friend to meet us at the restaurant, I read his first screenplay. I proofread it, and offered my thoughts. Lunch with the boys was nice, and then the stress hit again when I realized that I had 28 minutes to pay, and get all the way to my house across town for the film shoot scheduled to start at 6PM.
I made it just in time, but when I walked in the house, the look on the director's face was not a happy one. I unloaded my things, and asked him what was wrong. Apparently my roommate, the stripper, who is also acting in the film, had made plans for dinner and hadn't told anyone. She was fully aware of the shoot, and had been told every day for the past week that it was happening. I was only slightly put off by the fact that we now had to postpone the shoot. Most of the crew was there already, and we ended up talking and joking around for a couple hours.
Later, I helped out another one of my guy friends by getting him some cash from the atm so he could buy some fake pot. Another male friend called wanting a ride to the bar. A female friend wanted a ride to the liquor store. All I wanted was ice cream and chips, and ideally, my boyfriend to kiss my stress away. I got ice cream and chips. I didn't give anyone a ride. Once the last friend left, and I was all alone, I decided to start reading my book. It was about 11PM.
About an hour into my reading time, I started to hear awful crashing and banging coming from what sounded like the basement. Stripper and Skater stay in the basement, and Server hadn't been home in days. I was worried after hearing crashing for a few minutes, but no other noises. I walked out into the dining room, and noticed a bed in the middle of the room. Server was moving furniture. She needed to move the bed away from the window so she could put an air conditioner in it. She said she'd come visit me in my room when she was finished. I went back to reading.
She did come in my room, and we talked about our week, the failed shoot, our boyfriends, my intimacy issues, and our frustrations about the state of our house. She finally went back to her room to bed, and I kept reading. I knew I wouldn't want to put the book down until it was finished. That's my problem, and why I don't read as much anymore. I never want to put the damn book down. I have to read the whole thing, regardless of the size of the book. I noticed the time went from 3, to 4, to 5... I still had about a third of the book to finish.
In the book, the main character was taking a lot of walks, drinking a lot of iced coffee, and eating a lot of bagels. I decided I would take a walk to Starbucks, get an iced coffee and a bagel, and finish my book. I knew this would make me feel good, and that by the time I got back here, to my bed, where I am now, I'd be tired. Little did I know, instead of exhaustion, I just had an uncontrollable urge to write about my day.
Starbucks is about a ten minute walk down the street. I zig zagged through the neighborhood, noticing the houses I only see when driving. I noticed how the sidewalk changed. I noticed how the trees looked. I smelled cinnamon bread baking at the Aunt Millie's bread factory. As I walked past the local punk/scene bar, I saw beer bottle tops and cigarette butts with red lipstick stains on the ground. I took a look in the windows of the antique shop I'd never been in. I noticed a new tattoo shop on the corner. As I walked past Arby's, I smelled the distinct smell of onion rings, at a little after 6am. I saw the pink, orange, and purple clouds high in the blue sky. There was a gentle breeze. It was a beautiful morning.
I took my time walking to Starbucks, and I noticed even more things. I noticed the cars, trucks, vans and SUVs rushing down the one way street. I noticed how everyone sitting at the stop lights looked zoned out. Everyone was in a hurry to get somewhere they felt was important. And then, there I was... A very large woman, taking her sweet time, walking down the streets. I wondered what people thought of me then. What the people in the cars were thinking about me as I strolled down the street. Were they wondering where I was going? Were they thinking about my size? Were they wondering if I was lonely? Or happy? Or homeless? Do they care about me? Even for a moment? Do they even see me? Were they jealous of me? Are they thinking that it's good for me to be walking? Are they shocked that I'm able to walk?
I wasn't thinking these things because it mattered to me what they were thinking of me, if they were thinking anything at all. I was thinking them because I think about people I see. I wondered if other people thought like me. I know everyone is concerned about what other people think of them. I am too. However, for me, I only take it to heart when it's the thoughts of someone who matters to me.
Once I got to Starbucks, I ordered a large iced coffee with mocha and milk, and a toasted bagel with cream cheese. The barista asked me if I wanted milk or cream, and being that this entire trip was to make me feel better, I opted for cream. All day I'd been gorging on fattening foods and I figured it couldn't make much of a difference if I indulged on breakfast before bed. I'd eaten enough calories at the buffet to take care of a day, but the stress, estrogen, and also general hunger, got the best of me later on. I ate a pint (4 servings) of chocolate chunk cookies and chocolate ice cream, and an entire 8 servings of ranch chip mix. I sat down in the garage patio area they had, and ate my bagel, drank my iced coffee, and finished that book. So what if I'm 450lbs, drinking a full fat iced mocha coffee drink with full fat cream? Eating a multi grain bagel with regular cream cheese? A day of fatty mcfat fat indulgence isn't going to change me! I needed to turn to food for comfort. And a walk through my neighborhood. On a good morning.
Here's the weird part. I don't know when it started, and I've noticed it more in the past day then I'd noticed it before. But I've been losing girth. I eat a mostly pescatarian diet(fish and vegetarian). But, I have been eating meat here and there as well. I've not really changed anything else about my lifestyle, but I am getting smaller. Not much smaller, but enough that clothes that were the biggest size and tight, are now too big, and falling off. I had to stop frequently on my walk just to pull my once skin tight size 4x leggings back up. I'm not small enough to downsize, but maybe I will be if this continues. It's been over 4 years, maybe 5 since I've worn pants smaller then a tight size 32. I'm interested to see where this goes, if it goes anywhere at all.
Now I'm home, in my bed. I've written this blog entry, and I've smoked a couple cigarettes. It's 9AM. I'm officially up past my bedtime. My roommates have had full days, and a full night's sleep, and Skater's been at work since shortly after I left the house earlier. I think I'm getting tired, and will try to sleep after I publish this entry. I don't have anything on my post it calendar for the day. My only plans are to stay up all night with my boyfriend and our friend (the older brother of the 15 year old). And that won't start till after midnight.
As a night person, I don't get to say this very often, but it's been a good morning. One of relaxation, disconnection, self reflection, and appreciation. I can go to sleep now, feeling thankful and happy, knowing that the only thing I have to do today is rest, and be happy.
I can say this without being conceited, or cocky, or full of myself. I am lucky to lead the life I do, and I love myself, my family, my friends, my boyfriend, and all that is out there for me to experience and endure. I might be called upon for help often, or put in a position to bear others' problems as my own, but I'm glad to be the one that people look to for help. I'm proud to be the one that people rely on, look up to, and appreciate. I haven't always made the best choices in life, but I've learned from all of my mistakes. I have no regrets in life. And, if I die before I wake, which I doubt will happen, at least I know that my life was good.
