#165 - Pukin' by the Park

I will give myself this, I really do follow through on the arbitrary rules I set for myself.

Last night I decided I was going to wake up and do a mile loop at the park (it's also half a mile there and back so it's a nice morning walk) early in the morning because I've been going to bed late and sleeping "in" (8am, my younger self weeps at what my internal clock–bolstered by a persistent cat–has become) and early mornings are actually theeee key to me living a balanced life so, wake up early.

It would be nice if I could just start going to bed early but the truth is–that's not going to happen. If I wake up early for long enough though, my tiredness will catch up with me and then all of a sudden it's honk shoo o'clock around 10:30pm most nights.

So I got out of bed and got Dunkin' on the way because I felt like getting myself a little treat for getting out of bed (and I didn't drink coffee before I left and wanted to avoid a caffeine headache) and then I took a sip and it tasted like fake sugar and my entire body convulsed and then I surprise!puked on the sidewalk.

Thankfully it was the day after the final day/last call of Halloween parties, so any stray cars that happened to catch me definitely thought this was a hangover puke instead of what it really was: late night munchie bucatini acidic stomach before bed makes my body upset puke.

There's a saying in recovery circles (it may be specific to AA but I'm not sure and don't want to mis-attribute): make the next right choice.

I knew it wasn't the right choice to make late night pasta. I had already eaten dinner and I just got a hankering and didn't want to deny myself the temporary pleasure. But I knew it wasn't going to settle well. Even if I hadn't biled the next morning, going to bed with a full stomach of carbs is literally no bodies idea of a good time.

It seems incredibly juvenile that I still feel I'm discovering things so basic. I'm too aware when I make choices now so I know why I'm doing things but I'm also acutely aware of when I'm doing something I shouldn't.

I used to smash-and-grab my way through life and that left me with a lot of destruction in my wake. And while I appreciate that I was really just trying to keep myself alive–and I did!–that's not how I want to continue existing. I don't want to think of myself as unable to do anything that is within my scope of ability. I never want to be my own roadblock and the more I come into my own the more I realize that I'm the only thing left standing in my way so in order to not hate myself I'm going to have to really re-invest in loving myself enough to move out of my goddamn way.

I went for that walk, and then I came home and futzed around and napped and hung out with my best friend and we watched The Parent Trap and had an $8 off coupon to my favorite overpriced takeout place and played 3/13 while watching the movie and then I showered late and my neighbors are throwing a party so the soundtrack to that event was a bunch of drunk people scream-singing Zombie by The Cranberries (they followed it up with Wake Me Up Inside by Evanescence). Tomorrow morning I'm waking up early so we can go stake out a decent place to watch the New York City Marathon in Williamsburg and I am seeing live comedy on Monday night and then Oh, Mary on Thursday and like...I know things are bad and have been bad but maybe this time I've got all the right ingredients and can finally fucking bake this cake.

Even if I have to throw up and keep walking and throw up a little more again on my way.