Hello kittens!
Tonight was election night. I hope you were
all good citizens and actively participated in the electoral process. I failed,
mostly because I’ve been supremely apathetic the last month or so. I barely
mustered the energy to clip my toenails. Registering to vote was out of the
question. As a result of my non-participation I had to buy Lucy lunch. I’m not
complaining though, things appear to have turned out just fine without me.
Recently, the hot topics at the Boulevard have been politics
and pregnancy, both of which I try to avoid. So I obvs spent 6 hours researching kale in an attempt to
avoid all conversation. You guys, kale is a super food! Did you know it’s full
of Vitamin K and iron? Did you know it only costs $1.39 per bunch and is super
filling? I want to eat it for every meal. I also learned that hemp hearts are
an excellent source of Omega-3 fatty acids, and I might live to be one million
years old if I start eating more broccoli.
This healthy food kick stems from an article I read last week discussing sugar consumption, alcoholism and depression.
As most of you know, I’m currently a desk surfer. The beginning of October
meant staring down a tub of bite-sized chocolate bars eight hours a day,
five days a week. Keep in mind I’m not generally a sweets person. I’ll eat a
bag of potato chips in approximately one minute, but candy has never held the
same appeal. Until the phones start ringing off the hook and the doctors are yelling
about missing charts and the clients somehow believe you personally caused their
dog to consume an entire box of allergy medication. Then those candy bars start
to look like little bites of straight dopamine.
 |
| Just one more Milky Way... |
I’m not proud of my actions, but I’d say I’ve been averaging
about five butterfingers and three snickers a day. Plus the random sliver of
ice cream cake, or pumpkin spice cupcake with my lunch. So I decided to cold
turkey refined sugars.
You guys, this shit is hard! Today was my second full
sugar-free day, and I was a basket case. I felt rundown, cranky and battled
some wicked cravings. Before today I’ve never felt the urge to shove at least ten
candy bars into my mouth at one time. But the fact that this is all so hard
confirms my suspicions: I’m an addict. Only my addiction is socially
acceptable, which makes it even harder to kick. Please bear with me. I’m hoping
by the one week mark the desire to tear my own face off will subside.
On a completely unrelated note: I’ve spent a lot of time
recently trying to decide how I’ll wrap up my recaps. A-Camp happened almost
two months ago, and I’m still trying to organize my thoughts. All I have left
to say is this: I left that mountain feeling capable of achieving. I felt quiet
and capable, like I’d just survived a particularly grueling yoga session; I was
centered. My problems were still the same, I was still the same me with the
same regrets, but they seemed somehow more manageable. And I guess that’s
really all there is to say about it.
A-Camp didn’t change my life, but it showed me my life isn’t
beyond changing. I met my heroes, and they turned out to be real human beings,
which only makes them that much more heroic. I made new friends and remembered
that I’m capable of being a social creature even if that’s not my default
setting. Better yet, I learned it’s ok that social isn’t my default setting. I’m
not the only introverted weirdo who would rather ogle cat pictures than go
clubbing. Most importantly, I found other people who understand my obscure
Buffy references.
Speaking of Buffy, did you know this is a thing that happened? Aren’t you glad?
So here I am. Everything has changed and everything is the
same and I still have no idea what I’m doing. But I think that’s ok. I can feed
myself and pay my bills and I’ve kept a kitten alive for two years now. I read books
and smoke cigars and watch too much Netflix. In the end I just need to remember--
I am a lover without a
lover. I am lovely and lonely and I belong deeply to myself.
It’s raining in Portland, and somewhere someone is celebrating
the election results with fireworks. Tomorrow at the Boulevard the hot topics
will still be politics and pregnancy, and I’ll do my best to avoid chocolate
and confrontation. Please be kind to yourselves, I need each and every one of
you.
Sweet dreams, you lovable weirdos.
-b
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