Running

It feels as though I've been training for a marathon the past several weeks. Instead of making me fit and lean ... it seems to have worn me down.

I have been in the dance studio every week day night except for Tuesday the past three weeks. Due to the Thanksgiving weekend, we are taking a break tonight and Monday night. Four consecutive days without dancing. The thought of not having that 9:00 p.m. lesson is rather liberating. But it's sad. What will I do in lieu of dancing? I'll probably sleep.

My Bellyfit class is still a 'go' for this upcoming Saturday. Yay! An excuse to ready myself for the day and be out of the house before noon makes me happy. Maybe while I'm out, I'll finally have the time to make that run to WalMart. Ever since they moved our local neighborhood WalMart halfway to the nearest town, I seem to feel the need to pack a suitcase before I make the trip.

Monday's Zumba class is cancelled in lieu of the holiday ... but I have found another drop in class in my neighborhood on Tuesday. I love, love, love my Zumba classes! I'm determined to find a way to make it to at least one class next week.

The F.I.T. class is a little bit like torture with good musical accompaniment. It's harder to convince myself to go to that class (plus the fact that it is a drop in, pay-as-you-go class and I'm not financially committed). I know it's good for me ... so once this dance lesson marathon is complete, I will try and force myself to do the right thing and go. But that drop in Zumba class is on Tuesdays as well ... maybe one work out is enough?

You'd think that I'd be feeling like a lean, mean dancing machine with all of this dancing and exercise that feels like dancing. One would assume the pounds would be dropping off like crazy (they are not).

My reality?? All of this running has simply made me tired.

Early Morning Revelations

I love waking up in the morning with 'the answer' to an unsolved problem right on the tip of my consciousness.

When I was a bank teller, there were many times that I woke up knowing what my cash outage was (that had eluded me the day before).

There have been times when I knew my life was in a state of chaos. I sleep walked (slept walked?) through my days just following my instincts and getting by. I didn't know which way to turn to get out of my rut. The right answers were right there before me in the wee hours of the day - before my conscious mind woke up.

Health scares. Even though my day time mind was running through the lists of possibilities, I had a knowing feeling when I woke up one morning with the words "You are going to be okay" in my head.

Minor things. Two nights ago, I struggled and struggled to download some video footage (that was dropped off in DVD form) onto another blog. My late evening brain is not smart. I downloaded a 'file converter' and I was still having problems. I woke up yesterday morning and knew what I had to do. The answer was there all of the time.

Last night? I went to sleep with gold lame on my mind. I wore my new garb for our upcoming performance to our group dance lesson last night. It wasn't pretty. All I could think at the time was the money I spent and the fact that I couldn't return those gold lame leggings. I was stuck.

This morning? I remembered the 'exchange only' policy at the above mentioned store. Maybe I can find a way to make some other gold lame garment work.

I simply can't be seen in public in that get-up. A (near) 50 year old body which is a little on the meaty side has no business in gold lame leggings. They've got to go! I must find a way ...

Thank goodness for my early morning revelation.

Clutter

At the very beginning of my banking career, I was told to keep my work area neat and organized. It is not only the impression that you give your customer, but it is a sign of an organized mind.

I have taken that advice with me where ever I have travelled. Whether it is a desk, office, kitchen, house, yard, car &/or garage ... the state of whatever area I am working in, correlates with my state of mind.

As a teller, I kept my wicket organized and well supplied. When I had a desk and office, my habits remained. Supplies were replenished before I ran out, everything I needed was at my fingertips and there was an aura of tidiness in my work space.

When I graduated to become a full time daycare provider, my house became my office. If the kitchen was chaos, I was a mirror image. The more I needed to feel in control of the day (my life), the more I fought to maintain order within our home. This is when stock piling food became the norm for me. I became (what most would call) obsessive compulsive about my household chores. It was a fight, but my mind and home continued to be mirror images of each other. If there was order in my work place (our home), there was order in my mind.

Fast forward to today.

I have been unable to make a final decision about the end of my daycare career. At every turn, I am reminded of the quality of life that I had (and ability to be organized and work in a lot of extra curricular housecleaning activities) when I ran my daycare. So I have had a hard time making the move to donate/sell &/or throw away the excessive amount of 'kid stuff' that have amassed over the years. Toys, videos, books, puzzles, craft stuff and baby paraphernalia fill every spare nook and cranny.

What is not filled with daycare provisions, is full of excess ... stuff.

I can't fit anything more into the filing cabinet. My dresser drawers are full. My closet is so full of miscellaneous items (not to mention the clothes that I don't wear) that I cringe every time I open the doors. My Youngest hasn't seen the top of his dresser since 2008. Boxes are amassing in the laundry room ... I believe the clutter is reproducing on its own. It's taking over our home.

Then there is my work. This .... is my office (aka - living room):

Since this picture has been taken, there has been a bucket full of invoices-to-be-paid and another box of statements-to-be-done added to the kitchen. Not to mention the box in the living room that is out of camera range.

I am 95% finished each task I have been given. No one job (except statements and invoices to be paid) is ever complete.

I have lists of questions, missing paperwork, documentation of potential problems, etc, etc, etc.

My mind feels exactly like my living room. I am in a state of confusion. And I don't know where to begin.

It's no wonder that I cannot retain new information - I have to 'clean house' in every sense of the word. I must regain some control of my work life, my home life and my mind.

Thank goodness for this upcoming long weekend. Watch out clutter ... here I come!!!

P.S. Note the cat-in-the-box ... our cat loves, loves, loves cardboard boxes. You can imagine his angst when he scours the living room to see all of his favorite play toys filled with paperwork. So I set out this empty box especially for him. He hopped right in and was as happy as could be.

The Things I Do For Dancing ...

First, it was the orange hair and all of the accessorizing I did, before I attended The Great Dance Adventure ...

Now? It is costuming for our dance formation team's performance at "Ballroom With a Twist" ...

Black and gold lame is the color scheme for the ladies.

So this (almost) 50 year old spent (over) $50 on a pair of gold lame pants yesterday.

I walked out of the store and my thoughts immediately returned to the orange hair that became my reality for The Great Dance Adventure.

Oh ... the things I do for the sake of dancing!! (I'm feeling a little 'Michael Jackson-ish' right now ...)

Tired

I'm just plain tired. Tired of working, tired of worrying, tired of juggling, tired of 'keeping up'. Tired of reasoning, rationalizing, tired of talking myself through.

My Oldest asked me what I'd like for my upcoming birthday. It took a little less than a nanosecond for my mouth to utter the words, "A man ..."

The same words were falling out of my mouth as my sisters and I parted ways. Only I was a little fussier, "A rich man, who works out of town a lot."

I just want to let down my guard and relax with life. I want to stop worrying and obsessing about work/bills/the future.

I know that this is a phase. It is to be expected while I'm treading in new territory. I have been working in my new chosen field for (just over) two months. It is not unusual to feel some trepidation while you search for your new normal.

I'm just tired of this treading water phase.

But there is a grain of truth to my wish. Sometimes. I just want to have someone hold my hand and walk towards an unknown future ... together.

Sometimes, I just get tired of the fight.

Give me a day or two and I'll be back to myself. But for today, I'm just going to rest.

Off to See My Sisters

One of the biggest benefits of living where I do, is the close proximity to my sisters. I feel nestled among my family - with one sister an hour and a half to the east of me; my other sister an hour and a half to the north; and my mom and brother five hours to the west. I feel snug and cozy here in the 'middle'.

I knew of other family members that lived in Our New City when we first moved here ... but I didn't know them. It was a great consolation to me, to know that I could just run out to have coffee with one of my sisters when I was adjusting to our new life here. I didn't do it. But I knew that I could.

What happened instead, was the accidental tradition of our (more or less) Annual Sister Supper &/or Sleepover. Sure, we cross paths for various reasons throughout the year ... but that 'sister time' has become something we all anticipate and enjoy.

Life is busy and the annual tradition isn't always a given. We recently took a spur of the moment trip to see our mom and it was fantastic. So really, we weren't 'due' for a Sister Sleepover any time soon.

But ... I have been having a bad hair year and an idea was born.

I believe I have hair like my older sister. Her daughter-in-law is a hairdresser and my sister always has an easy 'wash and go' hair style. That is exactly the kind of cut I'm looking for. So I emailed my sister to see if her daughter-in-law would be interested in taking on my hair.

Long story short, we are having a Sister Makeover Day in my Northern Sister's fair city today. We are all getting our hair done. I suggested we do nails and go for an entire 'girly girl' kind of day (I even invited our brother to join us but he had some lame excuse about running low on hair and wasn't keen on experimenting with what remains) but I think (the nails) idea was vetoed. But none the less, we are going to go 'get pretty' ... maybe hang out at the mall ... do lunch ... and fill the hours in between lunch and supper with Sister Fun.

It's sure to be a fun and interesting day. If you hear the echoes of laughter within your soul today, think of The Three Sisters ... it's probably us that you 'hear'.

The Number Just Doesn't Matter

It has been three weeks since I tried on my ballgown and discovered what I knew all along. My life of inertia had added some poundage to my body frame and the dress was pulling and tugging in places it shouldn't.

I haven't eaten after supper since that revelation. I have since realized how often I reach for food when all I am trying to do is simply stay awake.

I have become more wakeful by adding physical activities into my schedule. Keeping active has added some bounce back into my step. It has encouraged me to work during the day and keep my evenings free for my own pleasure. I  have stayed awake by being active. And ... (drum roll please ...), I have learned to simply go to bed when I am tired.

It's been three weeks. I decided to step on the scale this morning. Drum roll (again) ... ... ... little to no change. Maybe a pound or two - three, at most. My clothes are a little bit more comfortable, but really - there hasn't been a change.

And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm not making lifestyle changes to lose weight.

I'm making them because I feel gross after I eat a bag of chips late at night (with a sugary sweet chaser to boot).

The physical exercise has released happy endorphins within. I am feeling a little bit bubbly once again.

I work during the day. The evenings are mine, to do as I please. I sleep when I'm tired. I'm awake before my alarm goes off. My life is feeling back in balance once again.

Three months ago, I wrote about the numbers on the bathroom scale and how meaningless they were. This time, I remember the before, after and goal numbers. And do you know what? I really don't care any more.

All I want is to live a balanced life. At the moment ... I am succeeding at that goal. And that is all that really matters.