New beginnings kinda suck.

Yeah, I said it. I always try to be honest here and honestly, I’ve decided I just don’t like starting new things. [pauses for gasps from the crowd] There are quotes all over the place that talk about being fearless and embracing change…that new paths and open doors lead to magic and adventure. But in reality, sometimes change is just that. Change. You just wake up one day and decide to do things differently. It’s hard, it sucks, there’s no instant gratification, and occasionally you fail. I mean, who isn’t more comfortable just staying where they are, just chuggin’ along? Just me?

However much I may like the feeling of contentment, it’s something I rarely (if ever) get to enjoy. It’s become more and more apparent to me that life is just a series of beginnings and endings, with very few constants along the way. While that may not necessarily be a negative thing, it’s freaking hard sometimes, no?

On Monday I’ll start my new job.

Let me preface this point by saying that theoretically I’m super pumped about this opportunity. I’m proud of myself for reaching my goal of becoming a Practice Administrator in a medical office (and before 30, no less), and being able to professionally transition from one job to another while keeping many personal and professional relationships intact. Woo adulting!

But…along with anticipation and excitement, the incoming tide of emotions like anxiety (you constant bitch), fear, nervousness, and the need for approval are incessantly trying to take over. It’s been a non-stop battle in my mind this weekend- excited, then wanting to throw up, happy and proud, immediately followed by indecision and worry, smiling and feeling optimistic, then biting my lip and scared I’ll make a fool of myself next week.

I know, I know, I’ll be fine. I’ll do great and it will be amazing and I’ll love it and everyone will love me because I’m beautiful and awesome and hilarious and it will all be okay. Whew.

Oh, right. Hey reality- you’re still here? Damn it. I’m still scared.

Luckily, I never had to change schools as a kid. I spent my first 18 years of life in a tiny backwoods country town and knew, or at least knew of, pretty much everyone in my school. Even though I never had to experience the feeling of being the new kid, just the thought of it makes my stomach flip. I’d watch movies or TV where they walk into the crowded cafeteria and can’t find a place to sit so instead they choose to eat their lunch in a bathroom stall and I’d always think, “yep, that’d be me”. Not because they, nor I, are particularly weird, it’s just easier.  Is it weird that I’m already dreading lunch tomorrow? Honestly, I’ll probably end up eating in the car. Normal people don’t worry about this stuff, do they?

lunch

I’m on a mission to eat healthier.

I figured hey, since I’m changing my daily routine with a new job, different (improved) commute, and daily dog walking schedule…why not throw in another challenge and stop eating so much crap? Habits are so hard to break. But, I’m hoping my theory of starting this new routine will be easier if I automatically start doing it with all the others.

First, I’m going to keep up the no soda rule. It’s been 6 weeks and 3 days since my last soda and I hope I never go back. While it may be getting slightly easier,  I still crave an ice cold Diet Coke almost every day. Instead, I give my water bottle the middle finger, take a giant gulp, and let out an exaggerated “ahh” to try and trick myself that it’s just as gratifying. God, it’s really not.

Second, I’m cutting way back on the fast food. Matt and I really only had Chick-fil-a or Whataburger what, maybe twice a week, if that? Realistically, I’m always going to allow myself to indulge in a chicken sandwich and waffle fries occasionally. It’s just too delicious. And what’s the point in living if you’re so freakin’ miserable all the time eating  like a bird and drinking grass water?

While I may not be able to entirely sacrifice the fries and rare nugget adventure, we are focusing on eating at home and eating real food. It’s a time commitment, that’s for sure, and it takes a lot more work, but I’m hoping once we get used to it it will become easier and less of a struggle. Right now my main issue is not reverting to a 3-year-old and throwing a mini-fit every time I have to do the dishes.

 

All in all, while I may hate the idea of starting these new things; whether it be a new job, better eating choices, or drinking another unending bottle of water- they’re all worth doing. Ultimately I know it will lead to a better and happier life.

Well, at least that’s the goal, right? I’ll keep you posted.

Wash, Rinse, and Repeat

My week nights have become fairly routine lately, which I consider both a good and bad thing. On the positive side, it’s nice to know what to expect after work: get home, take Sophie out, change, work out, take a shower, eat dinner, cleaning/laundry (or not), then a little TV, and bed. Unless I have dinner plans with someone, that pretty much sums up my night…night after night.after night.

Routine wasn’t something I minded (I hate that phrase in past tense…is it minded? mound? …whatevs) when there was some one to share the routine with. Some one you could count on to be a part of the cycle, or support you when you wanted to break out and do something different. But on some nights, the usual routine gives me anxiety. Patterns, circles, cycles, these things are repetitive and unending. When will this routine end? Will there ever be a variable injected into this monotonous series of nights, changing everything for the better?

Some would say that I am that variable, and I see their point. I do decide to do the same thing every night. I do choose my routine and decide my attitude about those decisions. But, there is also something to be said about spontaneity. An outside force to “change up” the regular, expected events of a usual night. Is it wrong to want a little excitement in my life?

Part of my routine that has become more regular than I would like to admit has been wasting too many hours on Pinterest. Oh, how I love/hate/love my pins! I feel like the best of me is on that stupid web page. My best recipes, my future home, my future man (Gerard Butler, even if you have become a terrible actor, I will always let you talk to me in that Irish accent…any time you want!), my workout routines, my closet. Everything and more I have stored up in pictures and links…that website is my addiction. Oh, and I am not proud of it.

On the other hand, Pinterest has been sort of therapeutic for me. I’ve found ways to be positive and appreciate the little things in life, tricks to eat healthier and look better, places to travel, ways to save money. So many good things have come from those pins that I can’t throw the website in the junk folder completely. ..not yet anyway.

Specifically in the love/romance/mushy feelings department, Pinterest has been my best friend and worst enemy at the same time. I can scroll through pins and find the most perfect, uplifting, honest quote that makes me feel like I’m not alone during this chapter in my life, or a song quote that hits really close to home:

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But then there are some nights where I come across a mushy, emotional pin. Or, the best worst is when you find something that punches you in the gut and makes you want to just curl up in a ball for the rest of the night.

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But usually, I can end the wasted hour (okay, hours) by chuckling to a few funny pictures or sarcastic comments that I have all too much in common with. I’ve found that humor is really the best way to get through the hardest of times.

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Tonight, I’ll choose to take solace in my routines. I’ll choose to find comfort in coming home to a sweet puppy that loves me, and decide to love the fact that I know where I’ll sleep tonight and have plenty of food in my pantry…even if I can’t eat half of it because it doesn’t fit into my diet plan. (I’m looking at you Funfetti cake mix!) I’ll keep spending time on Pinterest, too. Hey, it’s cheaper than therapy, right?