What was that I said about things staying the same?
So far, my September has been better than my August was, but that’s not to say that I feel all pantsless and fancy-free.
I continue to keep moving almost daily with rides, hikes, or Dreadmill lumbers, but then somedays I spend my spare time just sitting and doing nothing (or dealing with a Snot Fest via some fall allergies, which is always fun in COVID times). And when I say nothing, I mean nothing. Just staring into space as I try to keep negative thoughts at bay.
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Even though at times it feels like pissing in the ocean, my weight and fitness continue to improve, but something happened to me back in August after “the bank card incident” that I just can’t shake. It’s not that there’s anything wrong; the bank is certain we’ll get our savings back, we’re living normally, paying our bills, and all that, but something in my brain switched off and hasn’t come back on yet. I can only describe it as not giving myself permission to be a goof again.
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Of course, there’s the continued COVID weirdness that feels like it will never go away (and may never if you bring yourself to listen to the talking heads on TV), but there is also a level of anxiousness and worry about B that I haven’t had in a long time. He’s a great kid, and I have no doubt that he’ll make wise, well-thought-out decisions about his plans after graduation, but as a parent, there is always a level of worry about your kid. I think it has something to do with loving them more than anything, but I’m no doctor.
With all that unneeded information about the life of a chubby, 50-year-old middle-class white man from the suburbs out of the way, I will end by saying that I am confident that in the weeks to come, I will normal up and be back to my old self. You know, the one that is more concerned about bikes, hikes, cameras, beers, footy, music, and boobs than the brain fuck of “real” life. Until then, my posting will be sporadic (you’re welcome).
Later.