detox, retox

Posted: June 30th, 2010 | Author: emily | Filed under: FML, Taco Bell, drinking | 1 Comment »

As per my last entry, lately I have been feeling… gross. In every way. Why? Multiple reasons. Sometimes just working through life seems like this huge pressure that I am unprepared to deal with. 

When I am really overwhelmed by my existence, I like to revel in it. I’m like a pig in shit. (Is that the saying? Well, it fits.) Seriously. Normally I am a really tidy person. I have nearly impeccable hygiene. I like to plan, I don’t like surprises, I like to keep busy, I like to feel in control of my activities and actions… so when that goes out the window, it REALLY goes. We’re talking bad. I don’t buy groceries, I don’t do laundry, I don’t even bother to put clothes back in my closet or in the hamper… I either don’t eat at all or binge on random snacks in a drunken stupor. I don’t move or I obsessively workout all night long. I listen to bad music alone in my room while wondering where all my friends are, or if I even really have friends. I sleep at random times but not when it’s dark out. Symptoms of depression? Just apathy? Regression into the lifestyle of a teenage boy? All of the above, probably. I’ve been feeling like Lindsay Lohan, and not in a good way. (see pictorial evidence.)

Anyway, I was pretty lame this weekend. I mostly just slept way too much in the daytime, drank a lot of alcohol, and ate a lot of Taco Bell. I woke up with a dual hangover from both late Sunday morning. I was supposed to go downtown for the Seattle Pride parade. While I am clearly not gay, I do support the lifestyle as well as equal rights for everyone. Furthermore, and almost as importantly, I support any holiday in which I am encouraged to day-drink in public while watching people in funny outfits. My dreams for any afternoon activities were shattered, though, when I remembered the tequila shots at the karaoke bar, the stupid texts, the Chicken Crunchwrap Supreme… I wasn’t in a very festive mood, to say the least. Luckily, my friend Yumi pulled me out of my Mexican torpor with this text convo:

Yumi: We’re getting ready now and heading up there. Your plans?

Emily: …still at home. In my pajamas, listening to R&B.

Yumi: Emily!!! No R&B in PJs! Come hither and hang out! How was the Rickshaw?

Emily: Intense. I just re-realized I ate Taco Bell.

After she didn’t respond to my pathetic Taco Bell epiphany/excuse for being a lazyass, I decided I needed to get myself together. I was a mess and it had gone on long enough. It was time to put on a colorful dress, buy a Gatorade, go downtown, and participate in the celebration.

Revisiting the public and life outside my pit of a bedroom, I felt a lot better about life. If the gay community can be so festive in the face of such oppression, I can at least get out of bed at a reasonable time and keep my living space tidy, for christsake. I came home that night, and armed with determination. In true Emily fashion, about five minutes into my mission I got bored/unmotivated and was about to give up and watch Entourage, but when I stepped on a tortilla chip with my bare foot while making the journey to my bed, I knew I had to get my ass in gear. Not only was my abode an embarrassing disaster, so was my entire digestive tract and nutritional compass. I finished what I started and promised myself I would do even better the next day.

SO YESTERDAY, GUESS WHAT. Not only did I eat incredibly healthfully, I did not drink a drop of alcohol, I worked out a shitload, and even ran (literally!) to the grocery store to reload on healthy groceries. I was almost drawn into temptation by a gigantic display of the newly released “pretzel-filled” M&Ms (excuse me?!? This must be revisited after I lose 10 pounds in July), but the knowledge that I was trying to turn my life around propelled me to the produce section instead. Score. Then, last night, I fell asleep alone, naturally, which never used to feel like an accomplishment, but lately…
Then, granted, today I ended up doing happy hour, but it was to celebrate Shawna’s promotion, plus I only had two glasses of red wine, which is heart-healthy. I also walked for a very long distance to get to the bar, including multiple flights of stairs. That’s something.

Here’s the sad part. I was so proud of my Monday (and semi-Tuesday) of glory, but the truth is, that shining moment of health is over. Tomorrow I am going to a show with Matt and Mini, two of my favorite people in the world, and also two of the worst (and therefore, in a way, best!) influences when it comes to making decisions involving “having a good time”… Thursday a huge preemptive 4th of July BBQ blowout in my backyard… then I have a sick 3-day weekend which will have to be expounded upon in a later entry. So, enjoy that 48-hour period of health while it lasted, everyone. Let’s just take a moment though, and acknowledge that I knowingly made positive decisions. I at least don’t feel as Lohan-esque, more Ashley Olsen at this point. Yes!

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