Saturday, January 29, 2011

From Here to Fateternity

Dear Fat,

Oh, how the heavy have fallen.  It's been . . . let's say six weeks or so since I last jogged.  My foot still hurts on occasion, but this weekend, I will be attempting my first run in far too long.  Wish me luck.  Fatticus, you're coming with me.

My diet was absolutely atrocious in early January.  I ate everything in sight without regard to my weight.  Although I generally try to keep my future health in mind when convincing myself to stick to good eating habits, I just . . . did not care.  At all.  Disappointment, anger (mostly at myself), depression still seem to manifest themselves in consuming obscene amounts of food.  The problem is that I don't really feel that bad after I eat too much.  Yeah, I feel better if I have things like salad, fruit, whatever, but I don't physically feel bad.  To shorten this story: I've gained a few pounds.  I was edging closer to my starting weight again, but fortunately, I have dropped a little since that point.

No, I will not consider any fad diets.  If I'm going to lose weight, I will figure out how to do so while eating real food.

I'm also consistently stressed now, and I have trouble getting myself to relax.  I feel like I used to be a relatively mellow person.  Perhaps that is self-deception.  Grad school, at the very least, hasn't made me a better person in any way that I can perceive.  Lab makes me feel incompetent.  I never really go out into the real world to help anyone anymore.  And people make me angry too easily.  Did people make me this angry before?

Frick, I need to chill out.  Being tense while I try to do everything I need to do isn't going to make things any easier.  I apparently need to reorganize my life goals.  Meanwhile, I should also schedule my quals . . . eventually.  Maybe.  And I need to lose weight for sure.  Enough of that.  Can we talk about something else?

I think once I have a little more free time (should have a little by the summer), I should start working on my screenplay for real.  Otherwise, I'm never going to do it, and it's going to turn into one of those long-running jokes about some grand project that I would never accomplish.  I don't expect it to be good.  I just expect it to be done.

One month into this new year, I still haven't officially stated my resolutions, but I will at least get them out before the new year of my people.  Evidently, my own year (i.e., the year of the Tiger) is bad luck for me.  Rather counterintuitive, I would say.  With the passing of this lunar year, my luck is supposed to turn, according to a Chinese post-doc in my lab.  That shouldn't be too hard since this year sucked and is ending on a suckier note (don't worry, guys, I'm not actually that depressed right now.  I'm just venting.)

So here goes:

Long-term goals: Get qualified to achieve long-term goals (yes, intentionally vague for your benefit)

Lab goals: Get paper out.  Any paper.  Seriously.  I would be desperate at this point if I cared more, but I just don't want my boss to get mad at me.  Again.

Fat goals: Lose fat.  Jog 2-3 times a week.  Eat ten salads a week (we're apparently at the age when our arteries are starting to clog).  Lose at least 25 pounds (realistically . . . we'll work on the rest later).  Buy new clothes (yes, that fits under this heavily parenthetical-ed category)

Hobby goals: Outline screenplay and complete first draft.  Play "Wonderwall" on guitar.  Pay attention to the news.  Finish Crime and Punishment and then work on the other books on my bookshelf.  Volunteer more.  Save world.

Personal personal goals: Be more tolerant of people and learn how to shut up.  I guess be less sarcastic/defensive and more approachable in general.  Yeah, that'll be hard.  Also, do a better job of keeping in touch with people.  Written correspondence will be back on.  And relax.

I'm sleepy now.  Good night.

I.M.

No comments:

Post a Comment