Eighty two weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 234
- Blood Sugar: 100
Down two pounds, and I’m obviously happy about that but I’m completely in the dark as to what I did to make it happen. Which leads me back to the lesson I’ve been trying to hammer into my head time and again: It’s just a number. And it could already be different as I’m writing this. Still happy to see it though (I think my lowest was 232?). I’m considering no longer bothering with the blood sugar number. It’s been hovering just above or below 100 for months now. I’m still gonna take it every week, but I’m not sure there’s any point in posting it here anymore.
I’d like to point out that I’m actually writing this on Wednesday for the second week in a row, and for the second week in a row I’ve also been back to teaching a mostly normal schedule (next week I’m finally back at all three schools). I’m sure it’s no coincidence. Structure is a good thing. Between having a little structure in my life, a new president in the White House, and the former president being impeached, life is almost returning to normal. Clearing some of the anxiety off my plate is leaving room for healthier pursuits like finishing volume three of my fucking book (which should’ve been out months ago).
Three things I’m grateful for:
- Writing. I’ve been writing a little poetry here and there, and a few days ago I sent a submission to a local literary journal, which felt great.
- Good health. I’ve got the aches and pains that accompany nearly 52 years of living on a spinning chaos rock, but I’m feeling pretty great, and in the middle of a pandemic, that couldn’t feel better.
- The impeachment trial. That’s not a dig at the former president, it’s just a good feeling that, after four years of no consequences, he might actually be facing some. Holding everyone accountable for their behavior is a good thing. Equality under the law is a good thing. Both of those things are largely aspirational in our country, but it’s good to see the trial happening even if, as I suspect, a conviction won’t be handed down.
I’m good this week. No health problems, and only the good stress of getting classes prepped before the start of a term, and making sure the grading doesn’t pile up too high. It feels like it’s been a long time since I’ve said I was good, and it feels good to say it. It also feels good that the number up at the top has (almost) nothing to do with feeling that way.
Here, have a graphic:
