Seventy five weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 238
- Blood Sugar: 109
So, a few things:
- Up two more pounds, which…whatever.
- Christmas happened and it was fine.
- This is being written three days late because I’ve been busy this week. Sometimes busy with Christmas shit, sometimes just staring at a screen and letting my brain slowly slide out of my ears.
It’s hard not to feel the absence of people you love during the holidays but the thing that sucked most about this year is that most of those absences are living people who are within driving distance, but it’s just too dangerous to be around them. I hate not being able to see my people, and missing the people who are still living makes missing the people who aren’t feel that much worse somehow.
And Annette lost another friend last week, and Covid can go fuck itself.
I turned in grades on Monday, which was five days ago now, and I’ve taken a little time to unwind but I can already feel the depression starting to settle over me. I’m gonna make every effort to make sure our bills are paid today, and when I’m done writing this, I’m putting on some shoes and I’m going outside for a walk. Which leads me to…
I need to start walking every day. It’s way too easy to continue to stay in and “unwind,” and I’d feel 100% justified in doing so. This year has been fucking terrible and I took on too much work this fall and it beat me down hard. But I need to get out. I need to have at least a little activity on a daily basis. Those numbers up at the top are not good. I’m only three pounds over my second goal weight of 235, but I’ve gone up two pounds two weeks in a row and that’s a trend I have to stop in its tracks. Also, at 238 I’m only a pound or two away from an unhealthy BMI, and I’d like to avoid that. The blood sugar is upsetting too. Both of these numbers I’m attributing to not enough water, not enough activity, and too much mindless eating. About that though:
I’m kinda stoked with how good the mindless eating is. Obviously if I’m putting on weight it’s not good, but in the old days mindless eating would’ve meant a shit ton of fast food bags. For all the mistakes I’ve made in the last few weeks, I’m still eating actual food and not McPoison.
I talked to a few close friends yesterday and the consensus was unanimous: 2020 can fuck itself in both zeros. All of us are exhausted, all of us are counting the days until inauguration day, and all of us are desperate for a change of direction with this country and with this virus.
Three things I’m grateful for:
- 2021. It’s going to be a year of transition, and transition is always painful, but it’s going to be better than what we’ve been through.
- Friends. You people are the reason I’m still here, and still trying, at the end of this year, thank you.
- Nieces and nephews. I didn’t get to see them all this year, but I got to see a few, and they give me joy.
I’m good this week. Tired from too much working, and sad from too much grieving, but I’ve got air in my lungs and the winter sun on my bald head, and those are good things.
Here, have a graphic:
