Jumping the Puddle

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Finally a Saturday at home alone with a big stack of pancakes. I might as well pour syrup directly into my mouth, because, lets be frank, I am using you, my dear pancakes. You are merely a vehicle for the liquid of Heaven's Gate. I am delighted that it's socially acceptable to pour liquid sugar, vats of it, over my foods. No lies or pretense, bring on the boatloads and smile for me. I confess: If I could eat syrup-covered foods for every meal, I probably would. I might cheat once in a while with my lover susharoni, but I'd come crawling back, fork in hand, tugging at your pant leg with snot and tears dripping down my face. I fucking love you syrup here's a ring that means Forever. You make me so hot.

This brings me back to the Resolutions. I was hoping to slowly rid myself of things that might, for example, stop my blood from flowing. Also, I'd like to keep breathing, if possible, because I kind of enjoy breathing. In prioritizing the steps that will lead to the awesomely awesome new me, I suspect I should start with basic infrastructure maintenance. Get that blood and air pumping. In my past bouts of healthiness, I've come to the conclusion that it's impossible to feel good about other areas of my life if I don't feel healthy. I don't mean Popeye healthy. Just the basics: not smoking, eating well (as in, remembering what spinach tastes like), and being mobile, preferably at speeds greater than 4mph. Lets get one thing straight. I hate exercising. I want to stab exercise repeatedly and then stab it again and then shoot it dead with a bazooka.

What's magical about exercising though is the amount of hatred it triggers before the fact, the internal "but I don't' WANT to move" tantrums it inspires, my insides punching my brain into submission. Yet after exercising I feel a wondrous sense of peace. I feel so soft and cuddly inside, my brain is clear, the neurons are dancing, the Yucky Thought Factory is closed. For a while, I feel like I can do things, I'm pretty cool, and the drops of sweat make me look like a sex machine who has brains and money and tells great jokes and will most likely be discovered at a karaoke bar by a talent agent who wants to manage my career as a model-actress-singersongwriter-triathlete. So I think I want to start exercising again.

Unfortunately I am a smoker. This is probably the first time I admit that I am a smoker. I've always seen myself as a non-smoker who smokes. For 10 years I have been in denial. Oh I could definitely not smoke, but I am choosing to smoke this one, as a non-smoker who smokes. I have to stop smoking right now. STOP IT. So before I tackle the exercise demons, I have to come up with an anti-smoking plan. I will kick your ass mo-fo.

I'll be back with a plan soon. Any tips or insights would be much appreciated.


At 4/08/2006 4:09 PM, Blogger Jennie Smash said...

I drastically reduced the amount I smoked by cutting down on triggers. Like, I decided not to smoke when I was driving, or stressed out. And then, not to smoke during the day. Etc. It works!

At 4/09/2006 6:09 PM, Blogger Gorgonzola said...

Good idea, I can probably do without the 3-4 smoking breaks at work. Thanks!

At 4/10/2006 11:24 PM, Blogger Rune said...

My middle name is syrup.


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