MAMACADABRA

This morning I had a hard time getting out of bed.  A very.  Very.  VERY.  Hard time.  You see, I was kind of hoping to give my notice today.  But instead, I logged into my computer at 7am, and started sifting through the many emails that came in when I was enjoying Spring Break with my little girls on Friday.  Lame.

I should have known the day wouldn’t be great when friends started to email examples of people who had found themselves famous, gotten book deals, found enormous successes after many many failures, and my response to each was “yes.  But…”  I’m in no place for those conversations.  I’m much more interested in eating Easter candy, listening to my book, and…did I mention Easter candy???  Not sure why those things don’t translate to my finding enormous success right this second.  Hmmm.

I’m using my sad weekend as a big fat excuse not to a) exercise, b) eat healthfully, c) be overly cheerful, d) get anything significant accomplished, and e) attempt to quit Diet Coke again.  Hey, listen, it could be worse…I could be drinking 32 ounces of Jack Daniels three times a day…that would be WAY worse.  Although it might really cheer me up.

A month or so ago a friend of mine suggested I read anything by Jen Lancaster.  She said she thought my writing style was similar to hers.  Soon after, I bought her first book, and listened to it nonstop until I’d finished it.  It was hysterical and the voice actor was fabulous (if you listen to audiobooks you know how incredibly important this is).  I quickly moved on to her second book.  Currently, I’m nearly finished with her third…it’s so funny and sometimes it’s like listening to my own inner voice.  The third book, “Such a Pretty Fat,” chronicles her attempts at weight loss.  As I was listening to it last week she started to talk about her inability to grow up and behave like an adult.  She decided it was time to do so.  As I listened to her describe having to decide to actually be an adult something occurred to me…

Umm…here’s the thing…I don’t feel like an adult either.  I mean…not at all.  Is that weird?

I had lunch with Ess today.  Burried my sorrows in a basket of chips with salsa and two big ice cold Diet Cokes.  She agreed that she’s never felt like an adult either.  Okay, okay, aside from the whole parenting thing.  Obviously we take that adult role very seriously.  But other than that…it’s almost like we’re playing make believe in someone else’s house, driving someone else’s sensible large family vehicle, going to someone else’s day job, and we’re just playing dress-up.  Maybe that’s the reason I feel like I can get away with eating full bags of Easter candy and not working out for several days straight in a row.  Yet when I wake up with sugar hangovers, and my runs after several days off are f-cking disastrous, I wonder what the hell is going on.  Huh.  It turns out…I’m just getting old.  Sh-t.

I talk about The Secret.  Believing in things and making them happen.  Visualization.  Positive thinking.  What iffing.  But, as it turns out, like a kid I’m kind of just waiting for things to happen.  Because that’s what happens in real life.  Right?  Umm…or is that wrong?  Again…sh-t.

It occurs to me that this…and by this I mean…oh I don’t know…fitness level, weight loss, a writing career, being a good wife, etc…it might take some actual work.  Oy vey.  I’ve gotta say…after this weekend I’m really not feeling up to a bunch of work.  I kind of want to sit in my bed, snuggle with my puppy, and watch “Sex and the City” for two weeks.  With Easter candy.  And then I’d like wonderful opportunities to fall in my lap.  I think that would be lovely.  But alas…as it turns out…I’m an adult.  I should probably act accordingly.

This afternoon I decided I should start to actually tackle some things.  I have runs to train for…that makes my exercise routine pretty easy.  Run three days, swim one, and maybe find some other workouts to do the other two days.  I’m already signed-up to do Weight Watchers for these extra pounds…so…I should just start doing it.  For those who care…no, not meetings…online only.  They make me violent (another reason this last Jen Lancaster book made me laugh out loud).  Then, after the masters degree discussion with my husband this weekend, maybe I should just look into the programs that exist here.  Nothing to lose.  And then, I got really crazy and started thinking that maybe I should start to write and submit articles.  About what and to whom I have no idea…but I’m kind of smart…I should be able to figure something out.  Right?

It sounds like a lot of work.  Daunting work for a girl who wants to hang out in bed for two weeks.  With.  Easter.  Candy.  But what if acting like an adult can also reep adult-sized rewards.  No…I’m not talking about porn here…I’m talking a lifetime of good health, the ability to golf 18 holes when I’m 85, a potential brand new career that I would actually love, one that I’d be excited about each day, and a happy little family?  Well that would be much more lovely than two weeks in bed.

TODAY:  What if I take this opportunity to ignore my desires to isolate myself at home in bed and instead “man-up” and act like an adult?