One of my favorite scenes in Jurassic Park (a movie that I love intensely) is when Tim is stuck in the electric car, and Dr. Grant climbs up to rescue him. The car takes on this inanimate - but all too mobile! - malevolence that's just as scary as the dinosaurs. Of course, the whole movie is about the evils of men playing God with the miracle of technology, but this is hardly an explication...
The two climb out of the car, which then begins chasing them down the tree (gravity, she is a harsh mistress) while they scramble toward the ground. In the end, the car hits the ground at the same time they do - fortunately, most of the roof is missing and they're merely encapsulated. (Easily topping the "yeah right" awards list for most incredible vehicular nonsense in a major action movie...)
"Well... we're back... in the car... again," says Timmy.
That's where I am. A lot of running around and screaming and climbing and ... here I am. Back in the car. Again.
I'm not making excuses for myself; believe you me, I've already castigated myself more than you possibly could (some of you won't - if anyone's even left who watches this blog - but some will. There are always the smug douche canoes out there... which is fine. If that makes you happy, that's good for you.) about my lack of sticking on the wagon.
I've been hyper-busy. In case you missed it, a little more than a year ago, I became a published writer. Yay me! And since that first story, I've had eight (8!!) stories picked up. Some of them are still forthcoming, but I have a nice little shelf in my office that has MY WORK on it. I've been mentioned in Publisher's Weekly AND one of my stories was selected for Hustler Magazine's book of the month. (Yes, I write that kind of story.... )
I also came into a large amount of money and bought a house. Which was a much more stressful and crazy-making process than I thought could even be possible, and given how prone I am to MAKING SHIT UP to worry about, that's really saying something. We started house hunting in October, made 4 different bids and finally got our house in May.
I also finally got to take a dream trip - I've always wanted to go to Disney, and we finally went in December. 10 days of vacation, 4 days driving, 6 days in the parks, and a freaking huge credit card bill... holy fuck, but things are expensive... ridiculously so. Eating two meals in the park, plus snacks, daily... Ug. I think I gained 20 pounds just over vacation.
(I also did the 3-Day for a second time, and while I skipped it this year - the fund raising makes me more nuts, and I just didn't need the stress - I plan to do it again in 2013.)
In any case, I've gained about 50 of the 87 pounds back. Ish. I don't know for sure, but the last time I weighed in at the doctor's office, I was rolling in at just around 185, up from 135. Which, you know, is still not 221, which is where I started. I'm wearing 16 jeans instead of 6s. (Still, they're not 24s, right?)
I keep falling prey to that terrible idea that I will have more time later. I will have less stress later. I will get it together after the holidays. After school ends. After we move. After after after.
On the plus side; my house is clean. And I mean freaking spotless. Everything is dusted. I vacuum regularly, my bed is always made. It's my house, and there's something different about it from being my apartment. (I'm also astoundingly good at getting unpacked. We were all settled in within four weeks; the boxes that are still full are the ones that are STORAGE boxes and are staying packed. - Some of it will come unboxed once we get some shelves built in the office closet.)
I thought about waiting; starting back on my healthy eating/healthy living thing (diet!) in January.
But, really, why wait?
So, here I am.