Plan B

Sometimes things seem really terrible and I really hate my life and I feel sad and lonely and I think, "Maybe I'll do something daring and shocking and desperate.  And people will be shocked.  And no matter what happens, at least my life won't be like this anymore."

Then I come up with good ideas like these:

Maybe I should secretly sell off all my belongings and start traveling the country and living out of my car.

Maybe I should use my entire savings to buy yarn and teach myself to knit and sell hand-knitted baby booties to all those happy moms-to-be.  I could come up with something new and awesome, like booties that increase your baby's neural stimulation, so they'll be smarter.  Or maybe booties that smell like bacon, so that the baby will always want to suck on them and then your baby will be more flexible, from all the pulling the feet to the mouth exercises.  Then I can charge a lot of money and support myself.

Maybe I should rob a bank and run away to Mexico.

Maybe I should fake my own death to get out of my college loans, and then rob a bank and run away to Mexico.*

Maybe I should go back to school to become a plumber.  No matter how bad things get, people will always need plumbers.

Maybe I should move to some village in Africa and live off $2 a day like most of the world.  


I know.  These plans seem awesome, right?  But then I think, "Nah, I can't really do that stuff."  Then I feel sad and little bit trapped in my life and I think maybe it's time for me to go to bed.  Maybe things will seem a little less crappy tomorrow.

But if not, maybe I'll start plumbing school.







*If you're an NCIS agent or an FBI guy or something, I'm just kidding.  I'm not going to rob a bank.  I promise.

When I Work Out I Develop a Split Personality

Saturday, June 23, 2012

5:44- I awake suddenly from a pee dream.  It's quarter to six on Saturday morning.  I toy with the idea of going for a jog.  I theorize that I could work out, get a shower, and go back to sleep while still having enough time to get ready for my noon rendezvous with friends.  After some debate, I decide to do it.

[Editor's note: For those of you who don't hydrate enough and/or have larger bladders than I, a pee dream is when whatever you were previously doing in a dream changes, and becomes an all-out battle to find a usable toilet.  It happens to me when I need to pee in real life, but I'm sleeping deeply enough that it doesn't wake me up.  Usually the dream has to do with searching for a toilet for a long time, until eventually I find one, but something makes it unusable.  It's running over; it's in a middle of an airport without any sort of doors or screens; or I start to sit down on the toilet and someone walks into the stall.  Anyway, I always wake up from a pee dream with the same immediate need.]

5:47- After my much appreciated trip to the loo, I yawn and stretch, stalling.  There's no reason that I HAVE to go.  No one will even know the difference.  It's not even 6am, for crying out loud.  On a Saturday!  I could crawl back in bed and be asleep in a couple minutes.  Besides, last week I worked out out five times and the scale still went up.  Finally, I give in and put in my contacts.  This is the point of no return- the contacts.  Can't go back to sleep with those guys in.

5:53- I grab a peach, my pepper spray, my cell phone, and bid Phil (the beta fish) goodbye as I head out the door.  I happily acknowledge that it's pretty cool out, which will make the jog better.

5:59- I pull into a parking spot at the park, hide the cell phone, lock up the car, and hit the trail.  There's no one else in sight.  On the way in I notice that the park doesn't actually "open" until 7am.  That seems odd to me.  I debate momentarily aborting the plan in order to follow the rules.  But nope.  I already did the hard part of working out- getting up.  Not going to waste that effort.

6:03- The path is green and leafy and cool.  For the first few minutes, it is only separated from the railroad track by about a ten-foot strip of trees and undergrowth.  I listen to a trail rumble past me, dwarfing me with its noise, size, and speed.  I walk the first five minutes to warm up.  I breathe deeply the fresh, wholesome scent of the woods in the morning.  I smile and feel pleased with my decision.

6:10- Having been jogging for a few minutes now, my euphoria is waning.  A guy passes me in the opposite direction.  He has a weird mustache and two little dogs on leashes.  I'm at a point in the path that is less wooded, so it's hotter.  And let's face it- I don't really like to jog.  Jogging just might be dumb, in fact.  But I'm still feeling good, and I chug along- quite possibly the world's slowest jogger.  I remind myself that I'm still going faster than if I had stayed in bed.

6:15- I finish my first ten-minute jogging stretch and I'm back to a brisk walk.  I'm thinking about safety.  Although I love this path because it's pretty and sheltered, that also means that it's less safe.  I feel glad that I brought the pepper spray, and feel thankful for this Easter present from my step-mom.  I also feel somewhat like a private eye, as I try to be extra-aware of my surroundings, which, in reality, seem quite benign.

6:30- I'm finishing my second stretch of jogging.  My feelings about the plan to get up early to do this are at a low point.  Jogging is clearly dumb and I'm unsure as to why I would have ever thought otherwise.  I'm hot and sweaty and I hate being hot and sweaty.  Creepy, overly-friendly guy and his dog, Buck (the rescue dog who's "been through hell and back" according to his loquacious owner) are behind me a bend or two in the trail.  But I keep going, reminding myself that I'm very near to the end of the jogging part, and then I'll feel really good about myself.  Just a little farther!

6:31- whiny me: I hate jogging.  

          teacher me: Suck it up, Cupcake!  

         whiny me: Whose stupid idea was this, anyway?

          teacher me: You're almost there!  Another minute!  You can do it!

          whiny me:  Jogging is dumb.  This minute is longer than a normal minute.

           teacher me:  Stop whining, Foster!

          whiny me:  (grumble, grumble, grumble)

6:32- Back to walking!  Jogging's done for this day!  Whee!  I love jogging!  I love this path!  I love the whole world!  Creepy, overly-friendly guy is probably just lonely!  Buck probably IS the best dog ever!!  Sweating isn't really all THAT bad!  Maybe I should go around agai--  Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Let's not get carried away.

6:40- I pause in the path to pick a couple of very sad black raspberries.  It's been too dry, so they're small, but still tasty.  I finish the route and jump back into the car, feeling a little bit like everything is awesome.  It's not really.  Real life will be waiting for me, when I come down off the post-exercise high.  But in the meantime, I guess there's no reason not to enjoy it while it lasts, right?

Hey Readers!  My latest article is now live on Inspired By Family Magazine.  If you'd like to check it out, you can click on the link to the right.  Once you're on the page, my article is called something about lessons from dad.  Happy reading!

Forewarned is Forearmed

Hello friends!

I'm just stopping in on my way to bed, to let you know that I'm feeling the writing itch.  Haven't narrowed it down to a topic yet, but I anticipate a post in the near future.  And I just realized that my next post will be #200!  Isn't that crazy?!?  It's like a blogging anniversary!

Um.  Yah.  That's all I have to say for now.  And so, until we meet again I remain

Faithful Yours,

Leslie :)