Word of the Blog: Agita (n.) - agitation; anxiety
And my being named after the patron saint of love, St. Valentine, when I've had nothing but agita in romance just makes it painfully more ironic.
--Rosanna Chiofalo, Bella Fortuna
Hey World,
Another group, another day I should have posted some of my writing. Unfortunately, between work and trying to get this blog back up and running (and my chronic laziness) it was a no go this week. I know that's not a very good excuse, but what can I say? When the inspiration's not there it's kinda hard to come up with the strenuos mental fortitude required to get words down on paper. I've been tired and stressed and unmotivated... And did I mention the laziness? Because I don't think the significance of my totally slothful nature can be easily ignored.
Which actually leads me to a painfully thin segue into the newest thought which most recently occupied my time. While scanning ye olde interactive cable guide, I came across one of my more favorite reality shows, Rehab with Dr. Drew. Somehow watching other people make exceedingly obvious mistakes with their lives (i.e., drugs, drinking, horrible relationships and other associated behaviors) makes me feel better about myself. I'd say I can't really think why that is except we'd both know I was lying. Obviously it's a not very successful ploy at seeing the benefits of my own life/decisions in comparison to others. A common enough concept to all of us, and what I think is secretly the purpose of every Kardashian, Jersey Shore guido, and Real Housewife on TV.
Only, I'm not sure I'm as different as I'd like to be. Admittedly I haven't developed a habit to any hard or prescription drugs, I know my limit when I drink alcohol and don't imbibe more than three or four times a year, and have not had much contact with local authoritative legal figures. But, even I have my vices...oh, yes. I feel I can trust you now, after all we've been through so, prepare yourself world. I'm about to tell you my dark secret.
I...am...enamored of food. And, I mean in a big way. Much more than just as a source of sustenance. Pretty much, if it wasn't originally termed as some kind of insect when alive, I'll probably eat it. But, I'll definitely eat it if bacon, cheese, butter, or sugar is involved in any way shape or form. Unfortunately, as is typical with such an affair, my love has become easily apparent around my face, along my arms, about my thighs, and across my midsection. It is not pretty (unless you're into bigger women and then I suppose it's actually very attractive). I'm not Extreme Makeover (another favorite show) big, but I've definitely left behind chubby. Hell, I've left behind zaftig.
Now, here's where you'll probably suggest I do a little dieting and add in some exercise. To which I will remind you of my persistent laziness. Remember that? I mentioned it like four paragraphs ago. You can go back up and check. I'll give you a minute...
Done? Okay, so here's how I connect back to Rehab. I know that it's not healthy for me to eat every good (terrible), tasty (fatty), filling (cardiac arrest inducing) thing that crosses my path. I know this, but I do it anyway. In the same vein, I don't think there's a person alive that doesn't know drugs are a terrible idea, but addicts do it anyway. You see where I'm going with this? I'm sure you do, as only highly intelligent (or really bored) people would read this blog.
So, what to do? I'm logical enough to know I should suck it up and make the change to being healthier, but how often does that work for people? If it did, I wouldn't have Rehab to watch every Sunday night. I need some motivation, and I'd like to get it before I hit rock bottom.
What do you think world? What would be (or is) your motivation? I'm not above stealing. Especially with so much to gain (correction, lose).
Writing update next week.
Until next time. :-)
And my being named after the patron saint of love, St. Valentine, when I've had nothing but agita in romance just makes it painfully more ironic.
--Rosanna Chiofalo, Bella Fortuna
Hey World,
Another group, another day I should have posted some of my writing. Unfortunately, between work and trying to get this blog back up and running (and my chronic laziness) it was a no go this week. I know that's not a very good excuse, but what can I say? When the inspiration's not there it's kinda hard to come up with the strenuos mental fortitude required to get words down on paper. I've been tired and stressed and unmotivated... And did I mention the laziness? Because I don't think the significance of my totally slothful nature can be easily ignored.
Which actually leads me to a painfully thin segue into the newest thought which most recently occupied my time. While scanning ye olde interactive cable guide, I came across one of my more favorite reality shows, Rehab with Dr. Drew. Somehow watching other people make exceedingly obvious mistakes with their lives (i.e., drugs, drinking, horrible relationships and other associated behaviors) makes me feel better about myself. I'd say I can't really think why that is except we'd both know I was lying. Obviously it's a not very successful ploy at seeing the benefits of my own life/decisions in comparison to others. A common enough concept to all of us, and what I think is secretly the purpose of every Kardashian, Jersey Shore guido, and Real Housewife on TV.
Only, I'm not sure I'm as different as I'd like to be. Admittedly I haven't developed a habit to any hard or prescription drugs, I know my limit when I drink alcohol and don't imbibe more than three or four times a year, and have not had much contact with local authoritative legal figures. But, even I have my vices...oh, yes. I feel I can trust you now, after all we've been through so, prepare yourself world. I'm about to tell you my dark secret.
I...am...enamored of food. And, I mean in a big way. Much more than just as a source of sustenance. Pretty much, if it wasn't originally termed as some kind of insect when alive, I'll probably eat it. But, I'll definitely eat it if bacon, cheese, butter, or sugar is involved in any way shape or form. Unfortunately, as is typical with such an affair, my love has become easily apparent around my face, along my arms, about my thighs, and across my midsection. It is not pretty (unless you're into bigger women and then I suppose it's actually very attractive). I'm not Extreme Makeover (another favorite show) big, but I've definitely left behind chubby. Hell, I've left behind zaftig.
Now, here's where you'll probably suggest I do a little dieting and add in some exercise. To which I will remind you of my persistent laziness. Remember that? I mentioned it like four paragraphs ago. You can go back up and check. I'll give you a minute...
Done? Okay, so here's how I connect back to Rehab. I know that it's not healthy for me to eat every good (terrible), tasty (fatty), filling (cardiac arrest inducing) thing that crosses my path. I know this, but I do it anyway. In the same vein, I don't think there's a person alive that doesn't know drugs are a terrible idea, but addicts do it anyway. You see where I'm going with this? I'm sure you do, as only highly intelligent (or really bored) people would read this blog.
So, what to do? I'm logical enough to know I should suck it up and make the change to being healthier, but how often does that work for people? If it did, I wouldn't have Rehab to watch every Sunday night. I need some motivation, and I'd like to get it before I hit rock bottom.
What do you think world? What would be (or is) your motivation? I'm not above stealing. Especially with so much to gain (correction, lose).
Writing update next week.
Until next time. :-)
No comments:
Post a Comment