To Stars Hollow

I have too many important things hanging in delicate balance. In none of them is the ball in my court. They’re all triggering my anxiety.

Each of them individually is enough to turn half my head grey. Together, they’ll run me bald. The head shave appears foresight now.

This is not good. I’m siwnging every day between happy, optimist, productive periods and long periods of anxiety. I miss my days of steady, productive work.

It even stopped snowing.

I’m not happy.


At least things are back to happy and normal in Stars Hollow. I just wanna go hide there for a little while.

Je suis content

It’s sunny and still. It’s beautiful.

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Weight is down.

Good music in the background all morning.

Back up to 3 pull-ups.

Doing ‘new’ work—challenging, sometimes frustrating, but always rewarding and teaching.

I’m loving my bald head.

Today’s a good day.

Continue reading Je suis content

Tick. Tock.

Score hit 1600 on one page. Up.

Another proposal rejected, apparently withouta second read, by a team marketing solution for second reads. Down.

Spoke to ma pa for nearly 90 minutes. Up.

Had a short, 5-minute angry rant midway. Down.

Rested all day and stretched twice. Up.

Legs are still stiff and hurting, with 10 miles on the training plan tomorrow. Down.

Played and snuggled with boy. Up.

Lying alone on the sofa thinking bad thoughts, when I should be asleep. Down.

Status.

Text to R this morning:

I don’t want to go run in this freezing cold.
I just want too snuggle up with the warm bachcha, hot chocolate, hot samosas and watch Gilmore girls.

After a good interval running session in freezing cold:

I’m the next Kipchoge. I’m the new Mary Kitane. I can beat Shelly Ann Fraser Price. David Rudisha is me. Mo Farah wants to be me!

Hormones and all that stuff …  :)