Happiness is: Setting goals.

I've been debating a blog post for a few weeks now, but I didn't want to put stuff out into the universe too much, lest it come back to bite me in my (slowly disappearing) ass. But it's been three weeks. I have no hesitations. The thought of quitting doesn't even occur to me, so I guess I can put this out there. I'm FINALLY working on my physical health for the year. I've got work in line. I have a little (not enough but a little) money in savings. My house isn't immaculate, but it's livable and I'm not horribly embarrassed if someone stops by. I guess that leaves me with one major goal for the year. My health.
I've started working out a couple of times this year. I've started eating rightish a couple of times this year. Nothing clicked. Nothing stuck-except the extra pounds I have to lose. I look back now and know I just wasn't ready. Wasn't committed. Wasn't prepared. Then about a month ago I realized I was really down in the dumps. Like really low. If I was at home, I was laying in bed watching anything that was on tv or sleeping. I was letting my house go. I hadn't fixed a meal in my kitchen in weeks. I just didn't like me. Nothing had really changed, I just was so miserable and unhappy. I messaged a trusty old friend, Trainer Jason, and told him I had to get back to working out. That the last time I really remembered being happy was when he and I were training together over a year ago before my back went all wonky on me. That it was time. We worked out a schedule, nothing too intense, two days a week. I thought, look at that, I just have to commit to two hours each week and my life will be all better. Man, was I wrong.
Wednesday, October 9th rolled around. I left work, got to the gym and put on my less than pretty workout gear, and headed up to the treadmill. Jason and I talked for a bit. He asked me my goals. My goals? What were my goals? Why was I doing this other than to be happy? I said I didn't really know. Then as we kept talking I realized I didn't want to get to my 35th birthday in the same shape I was in then. I had made so much progress in every other aspect of my life, why keep holding myself back in the part? Then he asked me my plan. "Well, I plan to try to come to the gym 4 days a week. Two with you and then two on my own on the treadmill." And what about nutrition? "Uh, yeah. Something at some point, but I think I better focus on this first or I'll fail and then I'll be back to where I was." I have no idea how, over the course of the next hour I committed to changing my diet and working out 6 days a week. Jason must just be that good.
It wasn't that I didn't want to do it. I just didn't think I was ready. I thought I needed to test the water with my toes instead of jump in, full on, balls to the wall. I was so very wrong. So we laid out small goals for the next 12 weeks, along with my big goal of 7 months (my birthday), weighed me, measured me, did a few exercises, and I went home with my head racing. WHAT HAD I JUST COMMITTED TO?!!?
I spent the next two days letting it sink in. Then on Friday, I gorged on Mexican food and margaritas (my favorite thing in the world) and went to bed early. Saturday morning, I got up, went to the grocery store and stocked my fridge. I came home and washed and cut up and portioned all of the fruits and veggies. Cooked up a bunch of chicken breasts. Portioned out hummus. Basically, I set myself up for success. It was a new thing for me. I had always anticipated failure, so I had set myself up for it.
I have a long road ahead of me, friends. I can always use support and kind words (which I already get a lot of, but I'm not too shy to ask for more!). I have set my goal, 160 pounds to lose in 18 months. (As of this post, I am down 8.3-that .3 is very important-and 4 inches). There's a lot of little goals before then. And I set myself all kinds of daily and weekly goals on top of those even. The sense of accomplishment is so important to success. And I am going to succeed.

I'm Having A Panicky Day

I'm generally pretty open about myself. I'm sure you've come to know that. One thing I don't always tell everyone is about my depression and anxiety. I'm having a day, and I am kind of hoping that writing works like my therapy for the day. So now you get to hear about it.

I'm a mostly happy person. I almost always have a smile on my face, but as high as I can get with my happy....I can sink equally as low with my not happy. When I'm mad, I'm not just a little mad, I'm COMPLETELY PISSED OFF. When I'm sad, it's not an "I'm a little melancholy today" kind of thing...it's more of  a "the whole world is closing in on me and I can't take it" kind of thing. It's all or nothing with this girl. As great as it is that I do generally feel that happy almost all of the time, it really SUCKS when I don't. I choose not to medicate myself because I didn't like the way the meds I tried, made me feel. I am also not a fan of taking pills. You can ask my mom about the first time she tried to get me to swallow a Tylenol and ended up getting so fed up with me that she threw a glass of water in my face (I'm endearing like that). Believe me, I don't see anything wrong at all with pills, in fact, I think if they work for you, that you absolutely SHOULD be on them. They just don't do it for me. It helps that these lows don't generally last long. Sometimes a day. Sometimes a few hours. I usually just wait for them to blow over. So the depression...that I can get past. The thing I can't, the thing that will almost always suck me down into a bottomless pit of despair...that's the anxiety. The anxiety can come from anything. I'm a high strung person, so it's probably not surprising I suffer from it. It comes out of nowhere and it sucks the wind right out of my sails. It usually starts with a slightly faster heartbeat. I ignore it. Next thing, I feel like I've had too much caffeine....I get a little jittery and my heart feels like it's racing a little. Oh no. Not again. Then I get a headache and it feels like I tried to swallow a golf ball and it's stuck in my throat. There isn't really anything I can do to make the feeling go away. I usually want to just crawl under the covers until all the bad stuff is gone. Maybe I'm behind on a bill and I know it and it's nagging at me. Maybe I had a dream where a serial killer was chasing me and I couldn't get away. Yes, it can come from something entirely fictitious. It's there. And it's not going away. The first time I experienced it was in college. I remember waking up and feeling like I couldn't breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on my chest and my lungs were about to collapse. That feeling spiraled into a full on panic attack. I went to the doctor back then because I was also battling a long and severe depression at that point. He gave me a magic little pill. XANAX! I could finally sleep. I didn't wake up thinking that the whole world was collapsing in on me. I finally had a way to control that panic. Then, as I always do...I quit the follow up. So now, many years later....here I sit. Heart racing. Hands jittery. Golf ball in my throat. Maybe it's time to pay the doc another visit.

Random Musings

I'm having one of those days (lifetimes) where I just feel like I need to blabber away to someone about all of the stuff going on in my life to keep my sanity. So, dear reader, that someone is you.

1.) Work on my yard has pretty much come to a complete halt. I don't dig holes or do much of anything when it's over 85 degrees out. I am not a fan of summer. Never have been, never will be. Give me 75 degrees with a nice breeze any day. Yes, I know that means I should move to a different part of the country. No, that does not mean that I ever will. Either way, staining the deck has been put on hold until it cools off a little, as well as finishing planting the bed in front of my house. This means that....

I have made quite a lot of progress though. It's starting to look like a home!

2.) I really need to spend this time conquering the crap in my house. All of my interior projects have pretty much been put on hold due to finances, but I also have a little pressure to get it done-which I will tell you about at a later date. So, when I'm not working, I will be cleaning up and out! I have a feeling that Goodwill is going to love me and the trash men are going to hate me for the next month or so. First up is getting my second bedroom cleaned out, painted and set up. I've started already, but I have motivation issues. If I can't immediately see progress, I feel defeated (explains a lot about my weight, right?) But I have no choice. I just need to plug away. If anyone is bored and wants to come watch someone clean and de-clutter, and have a cocktail, call me. I can always use the company to motivate (shame) me into being productive. 

I do enjoy help. Seriously. And this boy can seriously help. Earning money for college.

3.) Isn't it amazing how a compliment from a complete stranger can make your day? I smiled at the guy delivering beer to Quik Trip this morning and we laughed because we both tried to get out of each other's way, and both stepped the same direction. The next time he passed me he told me I needed to seriously consider modeling because I was too pretty not to. It was such a kind remark...and I accepted his compliment with a thank you and then immediately mumbled to myself that he must not have seen my butt/thighs/belly or he would never have said that. Then I immediately mumbled to myself that I shouldn't be my worst critic all of the time and that I should just enjoy that someone thought I was pretty. So that's what I've been doing ever since. I think we are all guilty of this. So stop it. If someone compliments you, assume it is true!

Humor like this is what keeps me coming back to work every day.

4.) Work is really wearing me out lately. Finding good help is HARD! I've had a couple of people leave, along with extending our store hours, so it's been a beast to find new help. I'm always looking, so if you know someone that would be good at helping customers, send them my way. I've probably got something I can hire them for. Meanwhile, I sit, completely overwhelmed (which I will admit is better than bored), often times waiting on stuff from people I work with so that I can accomplish my work. I will flat out admit that I don't play well or work well with others....if I have to wait for something from them, I wonder why they are eating when I'm still waiting. I know things will continue to be good here and continue to change every day. The new responsibilities are awesome and I wouldn't give them up for anything.

5.) So I packed a gym bag today. I'm gonna go back after quite a few months away. I'm not sure I even remember the combination to my lock for the locker. I'm not going to get too crazy or make bold statements about working out for hours on end each day. I'm going to aim for 3-4 days a week for 30 minutes on the treadmill and a couple of days work on my arms. FLABBY TEACHER ARMS BE GONE! It's probably not enough, but when I try to do more I end up quitting, so I am making my goal completely and totally attainable. I'm hoping that this gives me some more energy and keeps me from laying around the house after work every day. That is a life suck right there. 

Yeah, so I suppose that's probably about it for now. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I am quite certain I will have more soon, as I tend to be slightly neurotic and just a tad wackadoo.

The Post Entitled "Goals" or "Keri's Lack of Goals"

When I started blogging again back in January, I had all of these goals. Things I wanted to do. Things I wanted to accomplish. I had them all nicely laid out, but never did lay out plans to achieve them. Sure, I said I would work out more, give up fast food and just eat better. I'd stop spending money on frivolous things. I'd complete projects on my house. I did make a little progress. I haven't had a Diet Coke since November. I cleaned out my basement. I planted a garden. I've been paying almost all of my bills on time. But I've also had setbacks. I missed the bubbles of my morning DC, so now I drink Big Red instead. A bajillion calories, but very little caffeine and no aspartame. So I gave up one evil for a new evil. (Seriously though....a girl can only drink so much water!) You get the idea.

My favorite sharable!

So this morning I was having a talk with my sister, Kristen, about weight loss. She's doing really well on some horrible sounding diet thing she and Sean are doing. I know myself and I love eating food too much to stick to something like that!

Om nom nom.

Just talking about it made me realize something. I've been trying to accomplish the goals that I THINK I should want instead of the stuff I really want. Honestly, I don't care if I'm a size 8. Guess what, I wear a size 24 right now. Do I want to stay a 24 forever? Not really. Shopping for clothes is a pain at this size. Would I be HAPPY if I lost two sizes and had more energy? Yes. I would. Why have I made myself feel like such a failure and let everything be a setback just because I am not a size 8? I don't know. I can blame a whole lot of things, I suppose, but that doesn't do me any good. I think I'd rather focus my energies on reprogramming my head. So now for a little change in goals...I still want to start working out. I want to walk 4 or 5 days a week and do a little strength training a couple of days a week. Whatever size I get to from doing that is where I want to be. That will be my happy size. Because I don't want to give up enjoying food and drink and social time with my friends.

On Dining Out Solo

I am no chef. I try. Sometimes something turns out fantabulous. Usually I just fail. I am not a big fan of setting myself up for failure, so I tend to eat out. A lot. It's not the healthiest lifestyle for sure, but it's how I roll. I find it funny that a few years ago the thought of sitting at a table alone was horrifying to me. When I worked at Applebee's I felt bad for the people that came in and sat down with a book and ate lunch or dinner. I assumed that this meant that they had no one at home that loved them and no friends or else they wouldn't be dining out alone. It was a totally naive attitude. I definitely get that now. But I still have a hard time when I see other people out eating alone. I have this weird desire to ask them to join my table, as if they'd rather sit with strangers than sit alone and enjoy their food. And the stupid thing is I go out one to two times a week and sit alone. I still have trouble just sitting and eating...I usually play on Twitter or Facebook. I listen in on the conversations going on at the tables around me. I chat with the server. 

When I am sitting there by myself, I'm never thinking about what anyone at the tables around me is thinking about me. I don't care if they think it's "sad" that I am dining alone or if they assume I have no one that loves me or that I have no friends. I know those things aren't true, so who cares what they think. Ironically, some of the BEST "conversations" I have are when I am sitting alone commenting back and forth on Facebook with old friends or tweeting about conversations happening at the table next to me (and there have been some REAL GEMS-let me tell you!) In a world where everything is GO GO GO, it's nice to just sit and be with myself once in a while.

The Legend of Lucifer

I just realized as I was titling this post that I should have called him LucifUr and I'm mad at myself for missing out on the opportunity to use that pun. So I was told recently that I should blog. Which means I am clearly not blogging enough. I'll try to be better. I know having the internets at home would help, but I'm cheap and always broke. Not having internet is a way I cut my monthly bills. Anywho....on to the story. This is a bit of a repeat if you follow me on FB. For that I apologize.
I decided this year that I would finally put forth a little effort and work on my yard. I have been in my house since 2000 after all. It's long overdue. My yard is a mess. I have a long way to go, but I started with two pretty orange lilies and some herbs in pots. I planted my herbs and noticed every day when I came home that the dirt in the pots was displaced. I've had squirrels before-those little jerks chewed on my deck-so I thought perhaps it was them. Then I planted my lilies and before one of them could bloom, something ripped all of the buds off. Mind you, the day before I had spotted an ADORABLE little chipmunk scurrying up into a hole in a tree nearby...at the time I thought, "oh, how cute! A chipmunk!" Then I came home to my destroyed lily and I knew what had done it.

My beautiful lily. All the buds ripped off and strewn about. 

 I voraciously researched how to get rid of chipmunks (yes, my research did include asking my FB friends, but I also hit the nets pretty hard.) The most common answers I found involved pellet guns and 5 gallon buckets of water, sunflower seeds and a plank. I may not be an animal LOVER, but I couldn't do it. Besides, who would get rid of their little carcasses because it sure wouldn't be me! So I called my mom (because who else would ya call) and asked to borrow the rodent cage she had...which she reminded me she had given to me a few years ago to catch the squirrels eating my deck. So I ventured out to my garage just Wednesday evening, found the trap and set it. Anyone that knows me knows that I generally don't cook at home (I have a post brewing about dining out) so I didn't have a lot of options for bait. It was either marshmallows and flax seeds or Cinnamon Toast Crunch and pine nuts. I opted for the latter. Apparently Lucifer LOVES Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Lucifur the Destroyer.

I had it strewn all around the cage, and every last morsel was gone. I caught him in less than 24 hours. Today I brought him out to work to release him because it's far enough from home that he shouldn't be able to find his way back, and I work by the facility where a local garden company makes mulch, and I figure he should be able to find a happy new home there.
The day after his capture and release, I came home to find that Lucifer's friends had taken hunks of dirt out of my potted herbs and scattered it all over my clean deck. I had cleaned it in preparation for staining it. Fortunately it has rained a lot and more of their retaliation plot has washed away, but still! Furry little bastards. Once again, I set the trap....

And this time, I captured Major Whistlebritches Johnson. My boss named him. He is convinced that they have a communication system set up underground, much like the military...hence the name. Major Johnson has been released and I haven't noticed as much destruction this week, but I am going to continue to set the trap and use my unique bait to capture them all and reunite them.

On Being a Plus Sized Gal in a Not Plus Sized World

I'm not skinny. In fact, I'm fat. It's not something I'm proud of. It's not something I'm ashamed of. It just is. Do I want to change it? Yes. Do I currently want to change it enough to give up the foods that I love and work out every day? No. I'm not there yet. I picked this year to focus on making changes in my life, and the last 5 months have been all about changes at work. I'm glad I've done that. Being happy at work has carried over into almost every aspect of my life...except my health. I'm happier at home. I'm happier because if I want to do something, I have usually have the money to do so. I'm happier because I don't have the sense of dread getting out of bed to go to a place I don't want to be. All that is well and good, but it's also time to focus on ME. But, that's a little off topic. Back to why I'm writing this: Being fat in a skinny world.

My thoughts on this began when I was looking for something cute to wear out for my birthday. I searched high and low. I knew I needed new jeans, and got excited when I got a coupon for buy one pair get the second for $25 from Torrid. I LOVE TORRID. It's a chubby girl's paradise. They have clothes that fit me, but that my grandma wouldn't wear to church. Places like that make me happy. So, I got on the phone. I called both locations in the area. Only one pair in my size and none on the website. AGH!! They were so awesome. They held the jeans for me for the two days that it took me to get up to the store at Zona Rosa. I was happy. I had my beautiful new jeans, and I got a new top. But I had to drive way out of my way to make that happen. I couldn't just run to Target and grab the first thing I saw. Bummer. Then I remembered...I couldn't go topless for my b-day. I needed something new to wear on the upper half. So I scoured the web for something that would look good on me. Something I wouldn't tug at all night because it didn't fit quite right or it was just a little too short. I finally found something I loved at SWAK Designs (if you haven't ever checked out their site and you wear plus sizes, I highly encourage it. I purchased a cami and a cardigan from there and I ADORE them. They are so soft and flattering.) I asked everyone which color to get and then I waited until payday. And of course, the color everyone said I should get was gone. So I settled. I settled for second choice. Granted, it ended up being a good choice. Apparently orange is a good color on me. But again, I couldn't just run and find something that fit me down the street. I had to order it from a website and pray that when it arrived it would fit, and it would look good.

Please ignore the extra chins and unflattering pose. A few cocktails and I pull back in my pictures...you'd think I'd know better by now.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and the big stink about Abercrombie and Fitch comes out. They don't want the fat/uncool kids in their clothes. My only real problem with this is that they are saying someone overweight can't be cool. I beg to differ. My weight has NOTHING at all to do with the number or quality of my friends. In fact, I'd say that because my friends see past it to see me, that makes them better people than the "cool kids" that can apparently only hang out with other people of the same size. I for one never want to live in a world of size 4, blonde hair, blue eyed robot people. So, to Abercrombie & Fitch I say, "that's cool. I don't want to shop at your store anyway. Even if I could." 

So that's what it's like in my world. Constantly being told by the media, by stores that I don't deserve to shop there. That I'm less of a human because my butt is bigger than the average Jane. I panic at the thought of travelling by air because what if they make me buy a second seat? I have to contemplate which table to sit at because what if I don't fit comfortably in that booth? Eyeballing where the bathroom is when I walk into a place to make sure I have a path that I can fit through to get to it. It can be soul crushing at times, panic inducing at other times, but most of the time I just keep on with a big smile on my face.