The weirdest thing of all here is that I actually have time on my hands. And not the half hour while Ben naps, but whole days of time.
For the past four months, since I went back to work, I’ve only had weekends as the days when I didn’t have to work, or take care of a baby. And usually by the weekend, I was exhausted from work and taking care of a baby – and did I mention that breast feeding is tiring? It is. So I’d end up lazing about for most of Saturday, going out with my friends on Saturday night, and then maybe accomplishing some minimal stuff, like laundry or groceries, on Sunday.
Meanwhile, the house was starting to fall to bits. Books piled up in random places. My desk disappeared under piles of unopened mail. And my husband can only help so much when it’s my books, mail, clothes, etc. that are causing the mess. Plus, both of us are kind of slack-ass about housework. That, and absent-mindedness, are our big shared flaws.
Let’s add the house guilt to that my ongoing guilt about my weight. I’m actually right at my pre-pregnancy weight right now, thanks to breast-feeding (and some minimal diet monitoring). Unfortunately, that starting weight was twenty-five pounds heavier than I was when I got to L.A. in 2004. Now, I’m actually thirty-five pounds over my goal weight, since even when I got here, I wasn’t quite where I wanted to be.
Is it any wonder that my favorite shows on BBC America are about people with filthy houses and fat people? I like seeing shows about people who are doing worse than I am.
Ben’s in daycare until the end of the month. He doesn’t have to go, obviously, but it is paid for. So I have all these weekdays to get my act together, to catch up on what I haven’t been doing (cleaning) and get started again re-building better habits (exercise) This is a very good thing for me. I don’t like all this crap cluttering up what David Allen calls my “psychic RAM”. I like having a clean environment, so I can think and be productive in it, and not get bogged down or distracted noticing something needs cleaning or de-cluttering. I don’t like having nagging little thoughts about how I should be getting some exercise taking up space in my brain. It all detracts from my ability to focus on what’s important: my little boy, my husband, and all those goals and visions that we have as a tiny family and I have as an individual.
Plus, there’s a lot of slutty goth wear living under my bed in a storage bin that I can’t look good in until I lose some weight.
Now, I have to stop procrastinating & go work out with my new game for the Wii.