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Showing posts from February, 2012

Hot, cold

February 20 I was supposed to go to the gym today but I got a fever instead. On the plus side, I am getting some exercise putting on my sweatshirt and shivering and then taking it off a few minutes later, and back on and off. If I keep this going for the next 30 minutes, there’s my arm, shoulder, and back workout right here in bed! Learning to be a social worker is fun, because you can use the strengths-based, motivational interviewing techniques you’re learning on yourself. You also have a much harder time ignoring the comforts, or in social work terminology, the privileges you have. I could take the bus home, which welcomed me with a heating system, my pink sweatshirt, an electric kettle, tea supply and cupcakes already baked and ready to be shoveled into my feverish body. And then, because I have not had the time to watch too many TV shows recently, I have exactly five episodes of Private Practice to catch up on! Once my body stops feeling like it’s a puzzle put together on a

Sunlit cafes want me to write

February 12 A piece of sun was caught on her ring and it glittered, rainbows trapped inside. Her bed sheets were a pale blue, and they made her feel she was on a cloud in the sky, especially when the sun was bright and sneaky, making its way into her room through the gaps. Do I want to wake up? She rolled over, stretching her arm out and looking at her engagement ring with the piece of sun and mini rainbows inside. It was a Sunday and she was lonely. She almost always woke up feeling lonely, because she wanted to wake up with him next to her but she couldn’t, because he was really far away. Gauging the loneliness meter, she felt she was about 5.5 on it. Which wasn’t so crippling. It was just a constant dripping in her heart that she felt perpetually, not the overwhelming waves that could sweep her away. She turned over and just like that, the rainbows and sunlight fell out from her ring. The red light blinked silently on her phone so she picked it up – an email. Hey Sara. I h

Still Not Mopey

February 10 So I feel like one of those Barbies that have had their limbs broken and then fixed awkwardly by 11 year olds. Almost where they should be but having just a strange look to them – and I imagine this is how it would feel. If of course Barbies could feel. Or like a yo-yo that’s wound up too tight. My muscles need to be stretched out, like an old coat or rug. Man, there I go again, what is up with these similes! So I joined the gym. It was like that episode of FRIENDS in which Chandler gets Ross to help him quit his gym membership but ends up with Ross joining instead. And I could see the Game Theory 101 chapter I had recently read come to life: the finely chiseled-jaw man pointing out to me why I should join that very day. Incentivizing, seizing upon my “costly signals”, and me handing over my debit card to him. $43, and a free one session with a trainer who measured everything from the circumference of my arms to my body fat – 27.5% of my weight is just fat. Posit