The First 30 Days

Day 21: Three Weeks In

Hard to believe. Although, from this point on, they’ll all be hard to believe so I’ll stop saying it.

Body + Mind

209.0

I haven’t looked back on any of my posts since Day 1. I figure at Day 91 I might go back and read all of them, but for now, I just haven’t.

A couple of things I have realized without looking back: the time has gone much faster than I thought it would and every day gets easier than the last. I thought this feat would take all the patience I could muster, but really it’s done anything but.

Even though the scale may not show it and my clothes aren’t fitting all that different (it’s really hard to notice a change when all I wear are yoga pants and hoodies 95% of the time), I can feel a change.

I can do one more vinyasa in yoga than I did yesterday, my feet don’t hurt when I get out of bed, I am not huffing and puffing at the top of a flight of stairs, and the sleep…if there’s nothing else I am gaining from this (and there’s a lot) the sleep is orgasmic. For realz.

I have read a number (like in the thousands) of articles about what happens to your body after one hour/one day/one month/one year alcohol free and one of the first things everyone mentions is the sleep.

I didn’t ever pay any attention to it thinking, “Pft. How much better could it be?” Never in any of those articles did anyone describe it as orgasmic.

I’m here to tell you it is.

House + Home

This is going to come at you from a little different angle tonight.

And let me tell you, the fact that this came out of my mouth shocked me more than it will anyone else.

I have never really been a homebody. More so in the last couple of years (for all the wrong reasons), but mostly I liked to be “out”. Out to dinner, at someone else’s [clean] house, a weekend away, etc. I just never really felt like any of my houses were homes.

I always thought it was because after my parent’s divorced I moved a lot. My parents didn’t necessarily, but I bounced back and forth a lot between them and then as I got older, I moved apartments every year my lease was up. I just got restless and thought the next place would feel “homier”.

I would fill it with endless knick knacks and paddy whacks trying to make it warmer, cozier. It never helped and I ended up with more shit. (Hence, why I am selling a bunch of junk right now.)

But tonight, while talking to one of the dearest humans in my life about moving homes, I said, out loud, “You know it’s not about the house, it’s about being comfortable in here,” motioning to my heart.

It was like someone slapped me hard on the ass with an “Atta Girl! You get it!” It was bizarre.

I finally figured out that the reason I have been restless all these years wasn’t because of the walls around me, it was the walls within me.

Ta da!

Debt + Finances

Dale and I went on a lovely date tonight. On our drive home we talked a little about making a plan, which we’ve never done, to complete some projects we’ve been talking about for a while.

Our style is to mention something one night and start (and usually finish) it the next morning, no matter the size of the project. We’ve always thought that was kind of cute. I’m not so sure any more. Now it just seems irresponsible and impulsive.

February is going to become my month for a financial plan. I didn’t really want to tackle anything else in January but I’m feeling confident I won’t need to spend as much energy just making sure I don’t stumble.

Stay tuned.

Parenthood + Relationships

I have a best friend that I’ve had since kindergarten. That’s a long fuckin’ time.

We have the kind of friendship that can go months, even a year, without the attention it deserves but is no worse for wear. A conversation about the surface of our lives in two hours is more than sufficient to keep it intact.

We have missed milestones in each others’ lives and neither of us flip out. We share many mutual friends that one or the other has spent solo time with and the other wasn’t invited (not necessarily on purpose) and we keep our shit together. Neither of us cry or whine when a social media post isn’t commented on by the other.

Deep in our hearts, we know the other would walk through fire for us. Well, maybe not fire, but they’d at least hold our hair back while we puke. There’s very little judgement, mostly just empathy for the lives we have watched unfold over the past 35 years.

I got to spend a couple hours with her today. We picked up right where we left off months ago. I get her. She gets me. And I hope everyone on the whole planet has one like her.

Travel + Staycations

I really thought this category deserved it’s own space, but I realize it’s just going to end up making me feel bad about being in Wisconsin in January when it’s -13 degrees.

I may ditch this one and bring it back for guest appearances.

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