One year ago, I just wanted those last 10 lbs off. They creeped on when I moved to California and hung around for 3 years. They finally melted off this past summer up through end of September when ex-boy saw my back and said “yeah, that’s kinda gross, I can see your spine. You might want to watch that.” So it’s creeping back on, but I’m no longer at my ideal. And it’s hard to separate the numbers on a scale from a healthy looking body. And that’s the thing about imaginary ideals, they never end in happiness.
I don’t like resolutions and usually tell everyone that I do not make them. Then I fall asleep to all the promises I make to myself floating above my pillow always slightly out of reach but never sharing them with anyone. But here’s the one thing I want to drop completely – false ideals. I get stuck on ideals and forget to live. I’d watch my colleagues shine in doing what they do and then get the mic handed to me and knowing that I achieved an ideal weight wasn’t going to find my lost notes in the middle of a presentation. Fretting to the point of exhaustion over broken relationships, a new abode, and a cell bio mid term still got me an awesome grade and probably 2.6 yrs off the end of my life. (don’t worry, I put those years back on by decorating gingerbread train for Jesus last night. oh, and I floss daily.) But chasing ideals isn’t worth it to me. I still want to help women through practicing medicine, I will want to impress my colleagues by some how learning scripting overnight and optimizing our web site because no one else wants to do it, and I still want a house with a lemon tree and a garden, and Jack, and a library with a big chair, but I’m not going to beat myself up over it if I don’t have it done tomorrow.
and I say this now. but check back day after Christmas when my Cell Bio final is due and see if I didn’t pull an all-nighter with Santa on Christmas eve….
uncommonality 