The low point of my day was being awoken at 8:30 this morning by Andrew calling me. He thought it was Friday (yes, he still forgets that there is a 12 hour time difference and I am ahead those 12 hours). After getting in numerous arguments over the past almost year (fuck!) about me being the one to always call him and me being pretty much fucking fed up with his excuse that he thinks about me all the time but just forgets to contact me... he set an alarm on his phone to call me M-F at 8:30 am. During the work week, this is fine. From 8:30 to 9 is when I am getting dressed and preparing to leave, so I have a bit of time to say hello how are you and do the obligatory I love you and I miss yous. The problem is that his M-F is slightly off from mine... His Monday is my Tuesday and his Friday is my Saturday. This alarm has been in play for 3 weeks, and for 2 of those weeks he has forgotten and called me on Saturday morning.
The last time it happened, we were all awake, thankfully. I wasn't this time so it sort of pissed me off and then he had nothing to say so it pissed me off even more that he woke me up at 8:30 on a Saturday with nothing to say. For some reason it also bothered me that he made a conscious decision not to watch the opening ceremonies even though he "has watched every one since he was born." Don't ask me why this bothered me, I couldn't tell you. I will tell you, though, that I am incredibly fed up with long distance. I've had it up to here *waves arms way over head* with long distance. Not because we're arguing a lot or anything... I'm just not a "distance makes the heart grow fonder" kinda gal. I just feel single again. The sort of sad part is that my love life right now is exactly like it was when I was single. I was never a girl that dated. No one ever asked and I was ok with that most days. I developed crushes because they're fun and sometimes I'd chase guys just for the hell of it, with no idea what I would actually do if I got them. I never got them, and I'm a bit of a prude, so I wasn't getting any. Yep... it's about the same.
Back to my day... After getting off the phone with him, I decided to shake it off, make some eggs and watch some Olympics. After breakfast, I took Bailey out and she was really quick which was a nice change since lately she's been lying down outside the door refusing to reenter the building until we run around some more. I finished the chicklit book I've been reading, and decided I was in the mood for more of the same so picked up Bridget Jones and read that. Then I put on Bridget Jones 2 (the movie) and walked/ran on the treadmill for an hour, lifted some weights and did some headstands and stretches.
I've either gained a lot of weight recently or have just become more aware of the fact that I am overweight. Either way, I've decided to stop some bad habits and work on developing some better ones. As of tomorrow, I am swearing off soda. This will be hard for me. Not because I am in love with soda (though I sort of am), but because the idea of not being allowed to have it will drive me nuts. It's for my own good though. Remind me of that when I bitch later about not being able to drink it. I have never dieted or had a real exercise regimen before in my life, but I figure it's about time. I'm only going to get fatter with age so might as well start trying to control that now. (Please note that this is not a plea for compliments. I don't give a fuck if you think I'm skinny, fat, pretty or pretty ugly. No offense... but 85% of the time I don't care what I look like and even less of the time do I care what I look like for the sake of other people. It happens, sure. Just not that often.)
Anyway, working out felt great. I feel weird walking on the treadmill and doing weights and stretches and shit with Renee and Sage in the same room. I don't mind going to the gym, but I sort of prefer to do it in my own living room, by myself. So with them out of town, I had to take advantage of the fact that I have a completely free Saturday and an empty house! I worked out for like two hours and it was magnificent.
After that I decided to do some light cleaning, so I did the dishes, did some laundry and just tidied up some stuff. Despite the fact that I am definitely not the tidiest person in the world, I do really enjoy cleaning. Not all the time, but I get the cleaning bug a lot where I just feel the need to scrub something and to reorganize my closet and wipe down my ceiling fan and do all sorts of other random crap. Considering the fact that my room was always a fucking disaster zone when I was a teenager, this is remarkable and something that my family still doesn't buy. Sadly, living here has deprived me of my ability to have my cleaning binges, because we have an ayi so I feel stupid cleaning up when we're already paying someone else to do it. Plus, this is still Renee and Sage's house so I don't feel as free to just rearrange and tidy up their stuff as I would in a house that was mostly mine or I at least paid rent in. (I've offered many times...) Since they're coming back tomorrow, though, I decided it would be nice to clean up since the ayi won't be here until Monday and I don't want them coming home to a dirty house.
I put on some music, grabbed the dish soap, and danced around in my underwear and a skimpy tank while doing the dishes. It was nice not to have to get fully dressed in honor of the other people in the house. I miss the days when I was able to just walk around in a bra and shorts and feel ok about it. Renee isn't like that though, and since I'm living with her and her husband, I feel it's weird to just walk out in my bra. Today there was no fear of having to rush to my room to put some clothes on when someone came home, so I proudly danced around rather indecently and tidied up the house. It was glorious.
It's only 9 p.m. on a Saturday, and I have no plans for tonight. Sometimes I think it's rather sad just how much I enjoy being home alone on a Friday or Saturday night. Randomly I will feel compelled to go out, but to be honest, a small part of me is thrilled when there are mounds of dishes for me to do or cooking to be done at home so that I can pretend to be busy and not have to go anywhere. On that note:
Signs that you may be lame:
1) You constantly find excuses not to go out partying when people ask you.
2) You aren't that sad when people stop asking.
3) You look forward to being home alone so you can dance around in your underwear and do the dishes.
4) A good weekend is one where you don't leave the house or talk to anyone, but get a lot of sleep and read a lot.
5) I think you get the point.
If you, too, suffer from lameness and would like to talk to someone about it, call me at 1-800-IMLAME2. Just don't call on Friday or Saturday nights. I will be terribly busy doing dishes or reorganizing my closet or reading a book or something equally interesting. Speaking of which, the washing machine's beeping...