I don't want to write, but I will because I should share the tiny tidbits of my life, and, well, freaking go on a rant.
So- the Reader's Digest version (sort of):
I have a job, I'm a bus assistant, I get paid. But I don't really like it, I'm bored, I'm worried a kid will have a seizure and I have no freaking idea what to do about it except I know to call 911 if it lasts 5 minutes. Ah! Our girl has had two notable seizures actually, one lasting all of the 2 seconds it took for me to reach for the magnet that I'm supposed to theoretically wave across her chest to maybe possibly bring her out of it, and then another time she seized for maybe 6 seconds. The magnet wasn't on her wheelchair that day (mom says it doesn't always work anyway). I suppose I'm more comfortable with the kids now, but I still don't particularly like riding on a bus instead of driving it, not to mention the pay is less. My driver does annoying things. We get along, I suppose. At least I'm not waiting around for phone calls to sub, I guess.
I adopted a plant.
I found a small green thing amid a pile of loose dirt like the victim of a murder or something. The plant was there, all its dirt scattered about, and the little plastic pot too, but nothing else to explain its appearance or where it had come from. It was in the middle of the sidewalk around our mailboxes, so it wasn't a normal spot to get dropped by someone carrying things inside, and it couldn't have fallen off a balcony. My sister has asked for baby pictures when I posted on Facebook about it, but so far I have not and don't care to photograph much of anything. You'll just have to wait for later, if the little guy lives. The pot says "red" on it. I'm assuming I might see red flowers eventually.
I rode Zoomie in the rain. It was chilly, but not so much that I had to worry about freezing. I have no rain gear, my windbreaker from last year that was pretend-rain-resistant did not survive the attempt to operate on its zipper. My plan of attack, then, was to get wet. I chose to wear things I thought would dry quickly. My brown Danskin exercise top made of polyester, and also Danskin shorts which were only 65% cotton instead of all cotton. Cotton absorbs moisture and clings to it like there is no tomorrow. I also wore my water shoes. I wasn't brave enough to dare go out in only that with bare arms and shoulders, so a Horde Warcraft hoodie went with me out the door. It got ripped off at the usual hot spot as I entered the Greenway. My dress and shoes, along with undergarment, were safe in my pannier. I got to work, changed, and left my clothes on the coat rack in the bathroom. Several people commented- one recognized my shoes, and today a nice lady driver let me know as she finally caught up with me that there is a dryer in the janitors closet if I need it. I don't think anyone was offended, frankly I don't really care about all but a couple of people, and the system worked well. I don't want to get wet when it is colder!
Zoomie got chain lube today. I had to take the White Lightning to work with me because I never remember that she needs lube until I go to ride, and then I don't have time. I got to work with the bottle of lube and stuck it in my helmet. That way I'd see it when I got my helmet to go home. So, I promptly flipped her over, and oiled the chain. I had a nice silent ride home. After the rain yesterday morning that thing had started downright screeching at me for some attention. You'd be surprised how many people ride around with noisy chains, by the way. When mine is quiet, I noticed them all.
K, there you go. That wasn't so bad. If you're happy with that, close your browsing window, move on to another blog post, or whatever. What follows is simply me venting frustrations and it may be Too Much Information. You've been warned.
* * *
* * *
So, I don't think I've mentioned it, but I've been randomly not eating bread or pasta. As in, I randomly decided to do that just because. I want to see what happens, and how not eating those carbohydrates which typically have lots of calories will affect me. I was doing really well too. I decided not to worry about things like spaghetti night, or pizza fun nights, but would try to alter meals if it was easy to do so. Once instead of shells and cheese sauce (with tuna for me and my roommate for a TunaHelper-type meal), I put the cheese sauce over cooked broccoli and cauliflower instead. I limited strictly bread only and pasta only, which left torillas open and other options if I needed them. I was trying to make it easy so I would "be good".
I was doing really well, too. Until my sister came.
No, I'm not blaming her. Her visit happens to coincide with the few days leading up to my period, and so I think I'm blaming it.
My brain has gone freaking insane.
I have completely lost all semblance of progress I was making. I think there was progress. I was feeling great, eating fruit (mostly cantaloupe) when I wanted sweet stuff until weirdly enough, I lost all cravings. I was avoiding bread and pasta like a champ and not wishing for them at all. I was in a good mood I think nearly all the time. I felt a little skinnier and was looking forward to my sister's visit when I had planned to get her to wrap me up in duct tape for my homemade dress form- and I didn't think it would look bad. I posted about how I traced my outline for a paper doll and wasn't upset with the results.
And then I lost it all.
I'm freaking up and down in mood all the time, explosively angry at stupid times, and I can't feel the difference happening. I'll be happy, and then be ticked off at all sorts of things, and have no idea where the shift occurred. I guess that sounds like normal PMS but not for me, I don't think.
The worst part is that I'm CRAVING SOMETHING. I'll be perfectly happy and not hungry, but then I'll feel like crap. My brain says we should have something sweet to cheer us up. That bag of chocolate chips we had some of when Jessie was here sounds good. Let's eat the REST OF THE BAG. Jamie actually interrupted that one and he cooked me an omelet and to save my soul, the rest of the chocolate chips went into the trash can. Before that- I nearly ate all the Oreos. As in, NEARLY ALL OF THEM. Two packages. They did nothing bad to my stomach, so I didn't really think much about it until the guys were trying to figure out which one of them was hogging the cookies. It turned out it was ME, and I was honestly surprised. Where was I when I was chowing down on cookies??
The Oreos seemed innocent enough, as I had done no other dietary transgressions before that. At the chocolate chips, I started cursing the slip up of pizza the night before and taste of processed sugar that surely MUST be why I suddenly craved desserts and sweet things again. I promised myself to stay away.
As you can imagine, since this is a rant- it didn't freaking work.
I made brownies. Again- it seemed like a good idea at the time. I distinctly remember deciding to make them. The only reason the other box wasn't made also is that we didn't have enough eggs. I ATE 2/3 OF THEM. In two days I ate 6 brownies.
Last night we ate out at a mexican restaurant. I asked for the banana burrito-thingy dessert. I did realize that I didn't need it after a bite or two, but that didn't stop me, because at that point my stupid brain was telling me that I ordered it and it was probably expensive (eating out always is) and I wasn't paying, so I had better freaking eat it. I did. And then my stomach was telling me that I was a stupid idiot and why did I do that to it?
Someone is selling cake pops at work. I happened to have $.94 in my pocket from somewhere, so I got one and ate it. They are a dollar. I promised to bring 6 cents the next day. The next day, I instead ate another cake pop. Two bites of idiocy. I STOLE IT. Technically I stole the first one. To be honest, they are really delicious. To be even more honest- where the hell is that part of me that should be screaming that I really don't need that processed sugary-crap and why did I even consider EATING four quarters in two bites??
I don't understand it, I really don't. I recognize that I ate stupid things I didn't need, and that my brain tricked me and they did NOT, in fact, even remotely make me feel better, and actually I felt worse after eating them- not only for the guilt of failing at a goal which I was succeeding very well at, but usually also with a slightly "weird"-feeling stomach afterwards. I see that. But I made that second batch of brownies today anyway. And I've eaten them. And I'm sitting here after three brownies (properly my share of the pan, right? /sigh), with a swollen fat "weird"-feeling stomach, and I hate myself. Why can't I say no anymore?
I have the best husband in the world, and he was helping me so much with my randomly announced goal of no bread and pasta. He actually just cooked me spaghetti sauce with the other half of the cauliflower so I could have "spaghetti" for lunches. He cooks me healthy breakfast any time I ask and a lot of times he happens to be home in the morning and makes me yummy omelets when I don't ask. He is always offering the chance to ride to work and meet him for lunch breaks (although I'm sure that is for his own agenda also- he likes spending time with me, its probably not for the extra exercise). He cooks wonderful and exotic dinners for us. My favorite lately was that Thai soup with coconut milk and asparagus and potatoes and pork. I ate that nearly every day until it was almost gone. Jamie has done everything to help me.
I few days ago I was incredibly tired, but I didn't realize it at the time. Jamie had dinner ready when I walked in the door- the stew I had suggested when we had gone shopping. The fresh vegetables in all their whole chunky glory laying there in the cart had put in my head the wonderful image of those huge chunks in a delicious hot stew. Jamie was listening (of course) and he had that made for me, over mashed potatoes. I didn't even have to take the dogs out, I literally sat right down with the bowl and ate while we watched tv. When I was done he asked me if I needed more, because I must have had that look on my face. I remember telling him that what I really wanted was more mashed potatoes and a ton of butter. He said that was really unhealthy for me, but how about a dessert? He proceeded to make me strawberries with a bit of whipped cream (He whips it fresh. I don't like whipped cream except for his for some reason, He does something special I guess.) I enjoyed my dessert, and wiped a bit of extra cream from the mixer. I was almost falling asleep on the couch, so I ended up going to bed at 6:30. I appreciated the very special attention and treatment, but I'm not sure I've told him yet.
During the shopping trip I also requested vitamins. So far they don't seem to be helping the mood swings or random cravings (its been 3 days, without having to take birth control pills this week I forgot a vitamin yesterday), but they are supposed to be good for you so I'm glad they were cheap.
The ONLY good thing about the last week and a half is that my period started on time on Tuesday, and THAT is something I don't have to worry about in the slightest. I use a Keeper Mooncup, which is completely hassle- and worry-free. Thank goodness.
I'm seriously hoping all this madness can be blamed solely on this time of the month, because I take my next birth-control pill on Sunday and with luck, this will all be over on Monday. I'm sick and tired of this random yo-yoing, and my complete lack of willpower (and complete lack of motivation to DO anything- I'm supposed to be doing a fun no-pattern re-creation of Jamie's favorite shorts and...bleh). I LIKE being happy, and this is not it. I feel like going and crying now. Actually, I already did a little, when I got to the part about Jamie. Stupid hormones (I hope).
And puppies, I hope you understand that I'm cuddling you extra because I really did not mean to make you so sad earlier by screaming at you, even if you are incredibly freaking annoying because I'm in a bad mood.