I’ve been a disciple of the school of doing as much as you can possibly fit on your plate to avoid disappointing people, having to say no to opportunities or potentially missing out on anything in most areas of my personal life. This doesn’t apply to work- where I understand that part of my job is taking on too much and just trying to go with the flow, this is just me personally dealing with things. What I’ve realized over the last couple of weeks is that it’s not making me more efficient, more liked, more money, more adventurous or most importantly- happier. In fact, it’s made me anxious, stressed out, frustrated and burnt out. The complete opposite. I decline invitations to go places because of the items I know I should be doing or that I think I should be doing.
This week I had free time to finish up some projects, but it was like I was at a stand-still. My brain kept telling me that I should be finishing things, checking them off my list… But my body refused to move off the couch and my eyes refused to stop watching the bad movie or TV show. My brain told me to get up and do something while my body walked itself over to the closest chair and my eyes closed. Essentially, I think I’ve created the perfect storm of inaction. I literally couldn’t finish anything. This has been building for a few years now, with trying to accomplish too many things and just never finishing any of them well- and it looks like I’ve come to the breaking point.
In all my inaction, I was able to sort out that I needed to make a change. I’m going to try a new philosophy where the things I do… I do well; I don’t put a half-assed effort into it and just try to do the minimum required so I can move on to another task. I wholly commit and follow through. It could be a dinner with a friend (not checking my BlackBerry), watching a movie with Mr. Roccapuccia (not doing Internet stuff at the same time), walking Gucci (and not feeling guilty about leaving the house when I should be doing something), cleaning my house (and not allowing myself to get distracted and shut down) or even just allowing myself to sit down and watch TV, read a book or relax without feeling guilty. This means not taking on projects or agreeing to any commitments I will not live up to, and this means turning away opportunities that may arise for my own mental health. This week, I am refusing to take on any additional tasks in my personal life which will allow me to dig myself out of the hole of commitments I have already undertaken and agreed to.
Deep breath…
Ok, seriously. I’ve been talking about how I’ve gained weight and need to lose it for like 3 years now. I’m like a broken record… Or a fat lady who just on’t leave the ice cream parlour. Mmmm, ice cream… No… No… I digress.
A couple of weeks ago, my favorite pair of Paper Denim and Cloth jeans got the dreaded hole on the inside thigh. I didn’t think too much of it because the jeans are known for being notoriously thin and is part of the reason that I heart them. I tried to wear them but found that it was not a flattering look and there are literally zero people who want to see my underwear while I reach up on a shelf at the grocery store to get something. I wrote them off to the land of lost jeans and bid them adieu. Sad, but I was able to successfully move on.
Fast forward to today as I was sitting on my living room couch chatting with my mom in a pair of not too well worn in Mavi Jeans. Don’t get me started on how much I dislike Mavi jeans (they ruined 2 Marc Jacobs purses and the store refused to do anything about it, even give me a future discount on a purchase) but I owned these dark jeans that were the perfect length for wearing with flats on the weekends. I’ve been wearing them more recently since the death of my Paper Denim and Cloth. And.. a hold in the thigh just seemed to magically appear. WTF.
I thought that maybe I was buying dysfunctional denim (I googled for denim recalls, apparently this has never happened in the history of time) but in my internet freakout realized that it was because my thighs have developed into their own small countries which are trying to overtake each other. They are rubbing against one another and causing too much friction. Too much friction in my pants sounds like a great title for my next porno flick, but in reality, it’s a depressing condition which results in your favorite denim being ruined due to your obese thighs. It’s the tearjerker of the year. While the internet did tell me that many ladies have this problem and present several solutions like this one… Is the fact that my denim is being ruined because I’m obese not more of a concern?
Ladies and gentlemen of Roccapuccia readership, I am officially a fatshionista.
My butt just doesn’t look good in non-designer denim. It’s a curse which I deal with on an everyday basis… But my wallet can’t handle going through a pair every month at $200 a pop because my tree trunk thighs rub together like I’m trying to light a fire. Wow, light a fire in my crotch. The porno movie titles are flying out of the Roccapuccia blog tonight. I will probably acquire a whole new readership because of the google searches. This might be the end of the larger Miss A due to sheer fiscal responsibility and budgetary limitations.
Miss A will be making an appearance at Celebrities tonight… Glow sticks, hot music, good friends and what promises to be lots of calorie burning dancing. Here’s to all the Red Bull I will be consuming to stay awake after a long and tiring day.
Bring it on!
I’m…
working
refinancing
cleaning
rejigging
eating
sleeping
organizing
destressing
…
and haven’t updated the blog in ages. I’m sorry! I wish I could say it would get better soon, but in the next few days I’ll be…
working
celebrating a special anniversary
clubbing at a gay bar
organizing
cleaning
preparing
…
I should be back to a more normal pace on Tuesday.
xoxo, Miss A
OK, I’ve got to admit that I’ve watched an episode of Jersey Shore. I’ve also got to admit that at first it was humorous, but it’s gotten out of hand. First of all, it’s “main” character is a midget who is an embarrassment to the human race. Why? Well, to begin… she dissed the BumpIt on Jay Leno and no one puts my BumpIt in the corner. (Kisses, Mr. and Mrs. BumpIt!) Most importantly, how come we are promoting more idiotic reality shows? With shows like Conveyor of Love where someone picks a mate off a conveyor belt- there is a new low in television programming. Let’s lose the Oompa Loompas (She’s a midget and orange, can we think of a better word?) guidos (WTF is a guido anyway? TY Wikipedia for knowing everything) and dating shows based on assembly lines. Let’s get more Hoarders and CougarTown. Ok, so my TV selection isn’t exactly much better, but at least it’s not about orange midgets who don’t read books because they don’t have pictures. ‘Nuf said.
As an aside, have any of you created your Jersey Shore name? Mine is “Tanny” or “The Opportunity”. Just FYI. Feel free to not use it in conversation all you want. In other randomly generated names, my Tiger Woods mistress name is “Danger Little from Revere, MA. She is a 27 year old waitress. You know she’s telling the truth because she wouldn’t lie.” You know, just in case you care.
This week I had free time to finish up some projects, but it was like I was at a stand-still. My brain kept telling me that I should be finishing things, checking them off my list… But my body refused to move off the couch and my eyes refused to stop watching the bad movie or TV show. My brain told me to get up and do something while my body walked itself over to the closest chair and my eyes closed. Essentially, I think I’ve created the perfect storm of inaction. I literally couldn’t finish anything. This has been building for a few years now, with trying to accomplish too many things and just never finishing any of them well- and it looks like I’ve come to the breaking point.
