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dameronology · 4 years

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love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true.

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid.

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again.

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist.

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success.

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch.

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered.

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business.

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened.

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently.

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate.

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his.

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself.

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other.

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second.

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers.

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted.

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket.

‘Hey, baby?’

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap.

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase.

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy.

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time.

‘Move in with me?’

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide.

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled.

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad.

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came.

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out.

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned.

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s.

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek.

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled.

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening.

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours.

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#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno imagines #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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morethannotenough · 4 years

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...there we were.

Well, I ruined it! Within about 7 months of meeting my goal I have gained every. single. ounce. back.

Frustrated, disgusted, disappointed, angry... these don’t even begin to explain what I’m feeling. The back pain, the shortness of breath, the fatigue, it’s all back too. What’s killing me is my mind is still obsessed with that goal, but I can’t motivate my body to do anything about it. That’s not to say I’m not trying. Things are just going to be a little more complicated this time, because clearly the whole “well I’ll just not eat for 6 months” approach to weight loss ISN’T WORKING, and I understand why now, which helps, but also means I have to address some gigantic, well-established thought processes. That ish is hard.

That being said, I do think I’m making a little bit of progress, and I’d like to kind of track it here if I have the willpower to keep writing. I use to write in a journal every day, but I felt like it kept me stewing in my negative emotions too much (because what else would a 16-year-old girl write about except her emotional turmoil?!), so I stopped and have been hesitant to pick up the habit again. Also... I’m an adult with responsibilities now, so spending hours a day pouring my soul out to the internet isn’t really an option anymore. I’ve thought about doing some sort of daily or weekly blog/journal/whatever during this whole process, but like everything else in my life, I put it off. What a great self-deprecating segue!

So the first thing I think I’ve figured out is that I have **undiagnosed** (that’s important, I’m not trying to claim anything here, it just all makes too much sense to not be at least a possibility) ADHD. I remember wondering this in high school. I even remember telling my mom once that I thought I had it. She immediately offered to get me tested, and I refused, thinking there wasn’t really anything they could do to help me. I kinda want to go back and shake that girl now. What I didn’t realize then, and wouldn’t realize until just a few months ago, is that ADHD is SO MUCH MORE than just an inability to pay attention to things and being easily distracted. It messes with your entire life. Your productivity, your executive function (the part of your brain that tells you to start the thing you want to do), your relationships, your time-management skills, your hyperfixations that take over your entire life but only last for a finite period of time, your dopamine reception, all of it. That last one is especially important. If I’m correct, and I do have ADHD, it means that my brain doesn’t produce enough dopamine, so I am constantly looking for more. You know what gives an awesome, instant dopamine boost? Eating carbs and sugar.

I think I’ve had this for a long time and I subconsciously learned from a young age, both from the midwestern food culture (celebrating? food! grieving? food! stressed? let’s get some food! bored? food!) telling me that any kind of emotion can be improved with food, and my sneaky little ADHD friend compounding the comfort/reward aspects of those food solutions, that food will make me feel good, no matter what else is going on. Throw in the fact that I’ve been slightly overweight my whole life, and while I was not actively bullied persay, I was passively bullied (by myself and others) enough that I was already insecure (it was called “shy” at that time) by the age of about 7. We’ll go into all of that later because it played more of a part than I originally gave it credit for. Anyway, ADHD has a lot of what are called co-morbid disorders, which are basically conditions that are likely to occur with an ADHD diagnosis. These can include depression, anxiety, OCD, oppositional defiant disorder, learning disabilities, executive function disabilities, aaaaand eating disorders, especially binge eating disorder. Binge eating disorder (BED) with anorexic and bulimic tendencies is what my current diagnosis is, I think. At least the BED part. What a coincidence.

Now, I’m not trying to say that my current weight is all due to my potentially existing ADHD. I clearly made some choices along the way to get here, but I have spent so many hours and sleepless nights wondering WHY I can’t just ‘eat healthier’ or stick to a diet and lose the weight. Why do I struggle so much with these things that other people are totally capable of? Having an explanation is such a comfort. Knowing that there’s a reason why this process is so hard for me, when it seems so easy for others keeps me from falling into depression and helplessness. Prior to talking with my therapist and my dietitian, I would sit and think about what it would take for me to be a healthier, fitter version of myself. I would picture myself years from now eating salads and veggies while my family ate pizza, like my mom use to do while she was on weight watchers. I would picture just wanting to take a lazy day but I needed to get my 4 mile run in first, and that future looked miserable. But the only way I had ever been successful at losing weight was by literally starving myself and pushing my body to the extreme with exercise, so clearly that was the only way to do it. I’m learning that this all or nothing thinking is deeply flawed, and honestly a big part of the reason I’ve been so unsuccessful in the past. Restriction (especially extreme restriction) is not sustainable, and studies have shown that it actually causes people to gain more weight back than they originally lost. Because diet culture is a huge money maker and they need a way to have repeat customers. Once you fall into the binge/restrict cycle, it is very difficult to get back out. That’s where I am now.

Even though I want this thing so bad, and I have a path that’s going to be easier this time, I’m having trouble actually making the small changes I need to start with, because my body literally does not trust me anymore. Every time I eat a food I like, I have to eat as much as I possibly can, just in case this is the last time I’ll let myself have it for months. If I make a small change, eat a healthy snack, do a quick workout before work in the morning--the little voice in my head says, good, we’ve started, now don’t eat anything else the rest of the day so we can keep up our progress, and more often than not I listen. Moderation is not always easy when you’ve lived in these extremes your entire life.

I don’t think I’m alone in this. I think there are a lot of people who can identify with these same struggles, even if they haven’t recognized these issues in themselves yet. So I’ve decided to try to chronical this journey to healthier thought patterns, and see where that takes me physically. You always hear the stories of the successful people after they’ve been successful. Let’s get through the gritty part together. I’ve been in therapy about weight loss for almost 2 years now, and I’ve made some major shifts in my thought processes already, I still have a lot to do. If I can help even one other person escape this cycle, it will be worth it.

I’m going to end today with an assignment my dietitian gave me, which is finding other reasons to fix my relationship with food other than weight loss. Some of these still have to do with losing weight, but don’t focus on a number on the scale. Hopefully I can check these off and more over the coming years!

1. I miss riding horses, but I don’t feel like I can fairly do it right now at the weight I am.

2. On that same thread, there are a lot of activities I’d like to try that look like a lot of fun, but my weight holds me back both physically (weight limits) and mentally (fear of judging, looking stupid, failing and deciding it’s because of my size, associating a severely negative emotion with the activity and giving up interest in it before giving it a fair shot, etc.) Some of those things include, aerial silks, pole dancing (not stripping, but like, the exercise classes), kayaking, rock wall climbing, dancing, and a bunch more that I’ll think of later. I love doing outdoor activities, but I don’t because my weight makes me so uncomfortable.

3. Losing the stress of going to an unfamiliar restaurant, and the judgement around ordering the same, bland thing every time. I have been chastised for being a picky eater my entire life, so I have a lot of stress around choosing foods in front of other people. This is also something that formed, unknowingly to me, at a young age. It results in an almost panic-like state of mind if the trip is sprung on me and I don’t have time to prepare (like the time I started my new job and another employee was assigned to take me to lunch, and almost chose a sushi restaurant before we realized we wouldn’t have time to get there and back. I don’t do sushi, I had no idea what to order, and I barely paid attention to the rest of my orientation that morning because I was panicking about lunch.), or, if I know it’s coming, I will binge on something I do like and that I know will keep me full before I go. Then I can order a small side salad or something, tell the person I’m with that I’m “just not that hungry today” and not have to worry about my stomach growls giving me away. This also spills over into places that I really like to go to. If I know we’re going to Old Chicago, for example, and I can easily put away one of their individual pizzas in one sitting, but I’m scared the people I’m with will judge me for that, I’ll binge before I go there too, so I can eat half of it, ask for a box, and finish the rest on the way home or later that night. It’s not healthy, and I didn’t even consciously realize I was doing it until a few months ago.

4. Having a truly open mind about trying new things. I hate being so picky. Hate it. But textures and certain flavors activate my gag reflex and I cannot eat them. There are some foods that are ‘okay’, or “I’ll eat it, but I probably wouldn’t make it for myself.” but for the most part it’s I LOVE THIS SO MUCH (read: anything made of bread and cheese), or I HATE THIS SO MUCH I CANT EVEN SWALLOW IT. Because of those extremes, I don’t try a lot of new foods, because history shows I don’t like most things. When I do, I try to have an open mind, or try to look and sound like I have an open mind, but I’m already prepared to spit it out before I even take the fist bite. I want to more more foods into my “its okay” range, and maybe eventually form a “hey, this is pretty good” range. I want to be able to go to my boyfriend’s parents’ house and eat what his dad cooks (he’s always trying new recipes with a lot of different foods and spices. He takes great pride in his cooking, which he should, and I feel like I constantly offend him with my 6-year-old tastebuds. I avoid going over there if I know there’s going to be food because I’m so stressed about not hurting his feelings.

5. I want to be able to have options about where to buy my clothes. Right now I’m limited to a few things at Walmart (which are sometimes super cute, but are usually very not cute), and Torrid which is always cute but sooooo expensive. I’d love to see a cute shirt in a store window or even online and think, hey, I should try that on! Instead of, “well that will never fit me.”

6. I want to want vegetables. I want to be able to choose foods based on how they make my body feel instead of the taste. I want to crave a lunch that gives me energy to get through the rest of my day, instead of something that tastes delicious (hello giant bowl of ravioli), but leaves me in a carb crash and not wanting to do anything the rest of the day. I want to see my food as fuel.

7. I want to not feel so guilty about eating the things I do like! It isn’t so bad when I’m by myself (hence my continued secret eating), but even if I’ve been good (or put up a facade of being good) all week, if I’m the one who asks to order pizza or make pasta for dinner, I feel heavily judged. I do it to myself a bit as well, but especially if there are others, and especially if they know I’m trying to lose weight.

8. I want to have kids one day (part 1). My doctor told me at my last appointment that she wants to see me get to around 200 lbs to give me the best shot at a healthy pregnancy. That’s not unreasonable, and I think she’s right. I’m in my 30s and my window to have kids will close sooner rather than later, so I want to get my body to a place where I can confidently make that choice when I’m ready.

9. I Want to have kids one day (part 2). I want to teach my kids to enjoy healthy foods so they don’t have to go through this same struggle. How am I suppose to expect them to try vegetables and healthier foods if I wont?

10. I want my life to stop being about food and weight all the time. It literally never leaves my mind. I want to be able to stop obsessing about it and just live and know that I can trust my body to make the right choices and maintain my optimum lifestyle without stressing and obsessing over food every single day.

I think that’s a start. I want to start diving into this more and doing more frequent entries so these aren’t all 10 pages long. I don’t have a great track record with that, but I want to try. I want to be able to look back on the work I put in while I celebrate reaching those 10 goals I just listed. I want to help other people reach their goals too without having to go through the mental anguish I’ve been experiencing for the last 20-something years.

One day at a time, one meal at a time. I’ve got help, I’ve got goals, I’ve got time and ability. I’ve just got to do it.

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sweetcron · 4 years

Note

11-97

hhelllll yEAHHHHH HERE WE GO BABIE!!!!!!! THANKS FOR THE ASK!!!

i probably went too hard on all these but....one of my summer classes just finished and i was like yeahahhHhhahah

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

totally depends where i am and how much time i have, but typically ill have yogurt & something small but sweet so i dont go insane

12. name of your favorite playlist?

god right now my favorite is handle without care, which is just stupid songs im into right now

13. lanyard or key ring?

lanyard, except i always get it caught on shit so typically i just throw my keys in my bag anyway

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

oooo hard one, my initial thought was sour gummy worms, but probably... either that or sour skittles. oh but fuck lemon & black licorice jelly beans together......im excited to have 0 followers & 0 friends tomorrow

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

percy jackson was dope. im trying to come up with another that i even read and frankly cannot

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

honestly i just sit like a fool all the time, but i like to be very reclined and almost horizontal, if im forced to sit more upright i like crosslegged or with my leg(s) pulled up to my chest

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

depends on the season or length of time, recently it’s been my black high top vans, usually it’s my docs. for a long time it was black converse.

18. ideal weather?

i like when it’s a little sunny, kind of overcast, but a little cold, like enough to wear layers but not suffer

19. sleeping position?

on my side, curled up, ideally holding pam(ela indestructable underworld), my adorable stuffed sloth

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

depends on what it is, but I have a planner sort of thing i really like for planning, a sketchbook/painting sort of notebook for more emotional shit and then my twitter that nobody follows and is private for really emotional shit

21. obsession from childhood?

i loved making like..dirt, water, and grass mixtures in an empty gatorade bottle. apparently this is not a common experience.

22. role model?

everyone to an extent, but also nobody. but to pin down a specific person, probably my therapist lol

23. strange habits?

i keep listening to shiny from moana? also i keep wanting to change my hair.

24. favorite crystal?

oh god, i love opal, but i dont know. most are pretty but some are awful. it depends, and id have to look at a million pictures for any resemblance of a legitimate answer

25. first song you remember hearing?

that’s so hard um. i dont remember very early but i do remember hearing crush, crush, crush by paramore and thinking ew crushes are gross even though i had a crush on a dumbass at the time, and welcome to the black parade and crying

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

warm, probably a concert but past that, walking around, going to thrift stores or record shops.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

a concert, again but past that going home, or getting a warm drink

28. five songs to describe you?

oh LORD!!!!! this is hard, but i did my best

1. caught in the middle - paramore

2. grow - muna

3. cool for cats - squeeze

4. cut my lip - twenty one pilots

5. tubthumping - chumbawumba

29. best way to bond with you?

share music with me, be vulnerable and share what is going on with you

30. places that you find sacred?

being in trees and being alone listening to music that means a lot to me loudly

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

i have a mustardy yellow shirt that’s got vertical lines that are raised from the shirt, and then a flared leg jumpsuit sort of thing that’s like plaid, with black and white and grey. then docs, and yeah i love that outfit. adore it. even better with a jean jacket with fleece lining.

32. top five favorite vines?

also so hard but after doing this i think im gonna throw up from laughing so hard

1. dancing puppet

2. get outta your mind

3. cat

4. WAY TO GO PAUL

5. krispy kreme

33. most used phrase in your phone?

that’s a great question, probably me asking people what to do with my hair

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

none currently, but always “meat, it’s what’s for dinner”

35. average time you fall asleep?

depends, but usually 10ish

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

probably some rage meme like brian or whatever

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

depends on what im doing, but usually duffel.

38. lemonade or tea?

arnold palmer babie!! but it depends, usually i’d say tea, i really like lemon ginger (especially pukka but its expensive)

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

i dont know if i’ve had lemon meringue pie, but lemon cake sounds better i think

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

i remembered this and it is entertaining, in middle school (i was...prolly 14? 13?) someone said “someone likes uuuu” to me and i was like. “......k” and they were like..... “it’s a giiiiiiirl” and i again, was like “.......k” and so literally, i fucking spent the rest of the class being like, hm! apparently i dont care. and thats how i realized that idc about gender when it comes to liking someone lol

41. last person you texted?

max, @laetan. follow him if u dont i love him

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

women’s pant pockets are cursed. jacket pockets enlighten me, especially when there’s one normal and then one like, on top of that pocket but the entrance is horizontal. that’s my favorite.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

all? but let’s rank them

1. jean jacket, my absolute fav, i have like 5 jean jackets and it’s bad. i always want more

2. hoodie, with a jean jacket is even better, but COMFY!!!!

3. leather jacket, look like a badass with one piece of clothing!!

4. bomber jacket, dont have a lot but always make me feel cool

5. cardigan, makes me feel like an old lady, but also really comfy idk. even the worst is amazing

44. favorite scent for soap?

i love lemon, but any fruit is good. or like, vanilla

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

sci-fi usually....fantasy is usually too much and superhero is usually annoying. unless it’s spiderman. i adore spiderman

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

oversized soft t shirt and like, soft shorts/boxer things

47. favorite type of cheese?

GOAT CHEESE!!! also sharp cheddar and pepperjack

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

pear. i feel like i’m not talked about a lot but people like me and nobody despises me??

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

i really like “you can start over each day” and “only skeleton bones remain” (FUCKING CLIKKIE)

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

i feel like ive cried laughing so hard, or almost thrown up, but i dont know why, and that’s almost better

51. current stresses?

just general body things, appointments, school in the fall, graduating, etc

52. favorite font?

it depends on what im doing, but i love my own handwriting, i like times new roman, hate arial with a PASSION!!!!! brawler is nice but doesn’t bold well. handwriting fonts are cool too

53. what is the current state of your hands?

left hand’s nails is in silver glitter and right hand’s nails are blue/purple glitter. perpetual hangnails. still a hint of a scar from cutting my hand on a razor, and remnants of blisters from rowing

54. what did you learn from your first job?

that you can be kind and see change without changing the entire world, and that men are creepy as shit

55. favorite fairy tale?

i dont think i have one? max probably has a good one that i’d love. new ask game send me ur favorite fairy tales and ill read them and review them

56. favorite tradition?

my mom makes me a half birthday cake every year, it’s really cute and idk why it warms my heart

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

fuck dude, umm this is hard and also a lot

1. my extreme self hatred!!

2. my extreme concern for other people’s thoughts, just honestly like dressing and listening to whatever and not really caring, ill always care, just not as bad as i did

3. letting go of things and trying to grow because of pain rather than viewing it as a waste of time

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

uhhhhhghaghhaghdshaghdhsaghadshg i dont know this is hard

1. finding dope ass socks at thrift stores

2. thinking creatively and trying to make something stranger than others like it

3. i can draw p well???? i guess? i designed my tattoo does that count

4. winning contests. i won like, 10 last year? like wtf

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

recently it would be life’s a sham and then ur wow, in reference to life’s a bitch and then you die and also shamwow. so that. or just constantly referring to things as bad boys, like. dishes.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

there’s different kinds? but ummmm i dont know, i dont want to google anime types. can i say like a miyazaki movie and be done with it

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

i dont know, can i do a song? bc i really like I’m alive in spite of me recently, also like this graffiti that i say that said 33 might mason men couldn’t put me back together again

62. seven characters you relate to?

oh boy, i asked my gf for help on some

1. nick miller from new girl

2. peter b. parker from into the spiderverse

3. dean mccoppin from iron giant for some reason

4. emile from ratatouille

5. a mix of ben and leslie from parks and rec

6. a weird mix of chris and ron from parks and rec

7. rodrick from diary of a wimpy kid

63. five songs that would play in your club?

1. come down by anderson paak

2. send me on my way by rusted root

3. doses and mimosas by cherub

4. replay by iyaz

5. rap snitch knishes by mf doom

64. favorite website from your childhood?

WEBKINZ!!!!!

65. any permanent scars?

yeaaa got a lot, most prominent are on my legs, partially just stretch marks, and then the one on my forehead from when i got stitches

66. favorite flower(s)?

i love carnations, marigolds, roses, but really anything, fuck

67. good luck charms?

i don’t have any, i used to wear a bracelet my gf gave me but it broke. *insert gif of me trying to remember when it broke and if that’s when everything went to shit*

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

centipede jelly bean. worst thing ive ever had. it wouldn’t go away for a day even with eating other things and drinking water and chewing strong gum. horrible

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

i have no idea. truly

70. left or right handed?

i am right handed

71. least favorite pattern?

houndstooth, i really don’t like it for some reason

72. worst subject?

i am oh so bad at writing, it’s really hard for me. but honestly recently every subject is horrible.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

this was mentioned before, but black licorice and lemon. i’ve only had it with jelly beans, so maybe it’s not as good in other formats

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

depends on what it is, if i think a migraine is coming then i take it pretty low, maybe a 4, otherwise i can deal with it up to like a 6 or 7, unless i’m needing to focus

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

i dont know when, but i do remember where. i was at a drive through bank in a rental car with my parents and brother in oregon, and i put the tooth in the lid of a plastic water bottle.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

jalepeno potato chips are soooo good but, honestly, tots are the best. mashed potatoes are good too

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

depends on the direction it’s facing and climate, but i’m growing some ivy right now and it’s so pretty and cool. also a christmas cactus that my great great great grandma or something like that started and has been passed down!!!! and a ..... leafy boy

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

absolutely coffee from a gas station, i dont trust sushi

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

my school id because i’m smiling. i look stoned or dead in my id.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

i didn’t entirely know what this meant, so i googled both and went oooooooo to jewel tones so. jewel tones.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

i say both, i don’t know which i say more frequently because i live where there aren’t ....... lightning bugs. ore fireflies. whichever. lol

82. pc or console?

i dont game much, but i like my psp a lot, or like a joystick sort of sitchhhh

83. writing or drawing?

dRAWING FOR SURE!

84. podcasts or talk radio?

podcasts, i don’t listen to much of either

84. barbie or polly pocket?

can i throw in a third variable of bratz?

85. fairy tales or mythology?

either, but probably mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes?

depends on the kind, but i love frosting and cupcakes are fun, so cupcakes.

87. your greatest fear?

that i will lose everyone i love or push them away? eeeee

88. your greatest wish?

to be content and hopefully other people are content alongside me

89. who would you put before everyone else?

honestly my gf, max, and steph. and my mom. yeyeeeee

90. luckiest mistake?

oh god we could go deep or not. probably not. so like, buying pamela, my stuffed sloth

91. boxes or bags?

depends on the situation, but bags are fun, can put patches on them, plastic bags are boring and boxes are useful, help organize or carry lots of things

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

sunlight absolutely, i love it. i then would say lamps are better than fairy lights which are better than overhead lights. fuck overhead lights

93. nicknames?

for me? okay lets GO. delly, delly boi, dell, d, glen, glenjamin, glenny, yenaled. there’s a lot of weird/gross ones that i dont want to share.

94. favorite season?

fall in theory, summer in stability.

95. favorite app on your phone?

wasn’t this already asked? CAUGHTCHA

96. desktop background?

switches between 3 pictures around colorado that my gf took

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

five

98. favorite historical era?

good question, i honestly don’t know. can i say the 80s or 90s? if not like, before racism existed. yeah

#about me #ask #long post #THANK YOU #ask game #anon #was this too long #sorry #also i spent so long on this wtf?!?!?!?!???!?!!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! who am i #anonymous

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oovitus · 7 years

Text

Doctors Make the Worst Patients

I have always been blessed with great health. When I got my life insurance a few years ago, I got the best rates because my blood work was so good. I have always taken pride in that, kind of like getting straight A's or being number one on a test in medical school (ok, that only happened once, and in pathology, my future profession, but it happened! Out of a class of 150!). So you can imagine my despair last Fall in the midst of wedding preparation when my OB incidentally discovered I had hypertension. I'm not talking minor hypertension: my systolic would swing up in the 2 teens and diastolic would go over 100 easily. I know, because I bought a sphygmomanometer (I love that word) for home and work, and became obsessive. My OB recommended a family doctor and he prescribed me with metoprolol. I have been long acquainted with beta blockers - learning from a friend in med school that they are good for anxiety inducing situations such as giving talks in front of large groups of people. I applied this knowledge to many situations - that time I was interviewed about the swine flu on TV, going out on excruciating first dates on match after I was divorced. They are great for calming your physiologic response to stress without messing with your thought process. But the same bottle lasted me almost ten years and learning I had to take it daily really upset me. I have always run low, why the sudden change? I learned that I accidentally gained 26 pounds after I got engaged, and was determined to lose half before the wedding. That was two months of mania. It didn't seem to me that the beta blockers were doing much - I checked five or six times a day and my blood pressure was all over the map. I was religiously weighing myself every morning - something I normally stay away from doing. I managed to carve my weight gain in half before I got married. I was texting my cardiologist friend and hospitalist friend weekly with my numbers and quizzing them on how to get them down. "My systolic is way over 200! My diastolic is over 100! Should I take another beta blocker? Go to the ED? AHHH." About a week before the October wedding when I finally fit in my dress I had bought in June I was like ENOUGH. I made myself stop getting on the scale. I stopped checking my pressures. I was determined to enjoy my wedding and honeymoon. On a follow up appointment with my family doc in January, my pressure was fine. Not low, but systolic was 130, diastolic mid 80's. "I wouldn't treat those numbers," he said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the weight gain, the wedding, the holidays, I told myself. This is over now. I'm back to perfect health. So you can imagine my surprise three weeks ago at my yearly OB check-up when the nurse asked to take my pressure again, "These numbers cannot be right. Are you symptomatic? Do you have a headache or anything?" No, never. My OB recommended another appointment with family doc. His nurse measured it twice too. 164/100. "Stop talking take a deep breath let me do it again." 152/90. I looked at her expectantly, "That's not very good, is it?" The doctor in me knowing it wasn't but the perfectionist in me wanting reassurance. No such luck. "No, it's not. Are you stressed?" I told her no, I was on vacation, I spent the entire weekend watching Homeland on the couch. Family doc decided to re-start the metoprolol daily. I told him I cannot go back to the manic numbers oriented person I was last Fall. I made him laugh describing crazy texts to mutual colleagues. I said, "This is your territory, not mine. Can we keep it that way, is that ok?" He laughed and told me to come back in six weeks for a physical and we would check it then. I asked him to review my blood work from last fall. He said it all looked great. Cholesterol was fine. Then he said something with utter surprise that filled my bruised ego with pride. "I think that is the best LDL I've ever seen. Yup, I've never seen one lower than that." I could think of worse things than having to take a daily beta blocker. It sure made me chill in the face of a large cooking project yesterday - not my area of expertise. I had to call my pulmonologist friend in Philly in a panic when my Instapot wasn't working, but I managed to figure it out without blowing up the kitchen or burning myself. I guess I keep going on as usual - working out a few times a week, eating as normal (my low salt diet attempt last Fall was dismal but I'll keep it in mind) and healthy as possible. Aging is tough, but I guess we all have to do it. Doctors Make the Worst Patients published first on

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frightfullyfantastic · 8 years

Text

Lazy

By Tim Kreider

If you live in America in the 21st century you've probably had to listen to a lot of people tell you how busy they are. It's become the default response when you ask anyone how they're doing: "Busy!" "So busy." "Crazy Busy." It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint. And the stock response is a kind of congratulation: "That's a good problem to have," or "Better than the opposite."

This frantic, self-congratualtory busyness is a distinctly upscale affliction. Notice it isn't generally people pulling back-to-back shifts in the ICU, taking care of their senescent parents, or holding down three minimum-wage jobs they have to commute to by bus who need to tell you how busy they are; what those people are is not busy but tired. Exhausted. Dead on their feet. It's most often said by people whose lamented busyness is purely self-imposed: work and obligations they've taken on voluntarily, classes and activities they're "encouraged" their kids to participate in. They're busy because of their own ambition or drive or anxiety, because they are addicted to busyness and dread what they might have to face in tits absence.

Almost everyone I know is busy. They feel anxious and guilty when they aren't working or doing something to promote their work. They schedule in time with their friends the way 4.0 students make sure to sign up for some extracurricular activities because they look good on college applications. I recently wrote a friend asking if he wanted to do something this week, and he answered that he didn't have a lot of time but if something was going on to let him know and maybe he could ditch work for a few hours. My question had not a preliminary heads-up to some future invitation: This was the invitation. I was hereby asking him to do something with me. But his busyness was like some vast churning noise through which he as shouting out at me, and I gave up trying to shout back over it.

I recently learned a neologism that, like political correctness, man cave, and content-provider, I instantly recognized as heralding an ugly new turn in the culture: planshopping. That is, deferring committing to any one plan for an evening until you know what all your options are, and then picking the one that's most likely to be fun/advance your career/have the most girls at it -- in other words, treating people like menu options or products in a catalog. Even children are busy now, scheduled down to the half hour with enrichment classes, tutorials, and extracurricular activities. At the end of the day they come home as tired as grownups, which seems not just sad but hateful. I was a member of the latchkey generation, and had three hours of totally unstructured, largely unsupervised time every afternoon, time I used to do everything from scouring The World Book Encyclopedia to making animated movies to convening with friends in the woods in order to chuck dirt clods directly into one another's eyes, all of which afforded me knowledge, skills, and insights that remain valuable to this day.

The busyness is not a necessary or inevitable condition of life; it’s something we’ve chosen, if only by our acquiescence to it. I recently Skyped with a friend who had been driven out of New York City by the rents and now has an artist’s residency in a small town in the South of France. She described herself as happy and relaxed for the first time in years. She still gets her work done, but it doesn’t consume her entire day and brain. She says it feels like college — she has a circle of friends there who all go out to the cafe or watch TV together every night. She has a boyfriend again. (Sh once ruefully summarized dating in New York: “Everyone is too busy and everyone thinks they can do better.”) What she had mistakenly assumed was her personality — driven, cranky, anxious, and sad — turned out to be a reformative effect of her environment, of the crushing atmospheric pressure of ambition and competitiveness. It’s not as if any of us wants to live like this, any more than any one person wants to be part of a traffic jam or stadium trampling or the hierarchy of cruelty in high school; it’s something we collectively force one another to do. It may not be a problem that’s soluble through any social reform or self-help regimen; maybe it’s just how things are. Zoologist Konrade Lorenz calls “the rushed existence into which industrialized, commercialized man has precipitated himself” and all its attendant afflictions — ulcers, hypertension, neuroses, etc. — an “inexpedient development,” or evolutionary maladaptation, brought on by our ferocious intraspecies competition. He likens us to birds whose alluringly long plumage has rendered them flightless, easy prey.

I can’t help but wonder whether all this histrionic exhaustion isn’t a way of covering up the fact that most of what we do doesn’t matter. I once dated a woman that interned at a magazine where she wan’t allowed to take lunch hours out, lest she be urgently needed. This was an entertainment magazine whose raison d’etre had been obviated when Menu buttons appeared on remotes, so it’s hard to see this pretense of indispensability as anything other than a form of institutional self-delusion. Based on the volume of my email correspondence and the amount of Internet ephemera I am forwarded on a daily basis, I suspect that most people with office jobs are doing as little as I am. More and more people in this country no longer make or do anything tangible; if your job wasn’t performed by a cat or a boa constrictor or a worm in a Tyrollean hat in a Richard Scarry book I’m not convinced it’s necessary. Yes, I know we’re all very busy, but what, exactly, is getting done? Are all those people running late for meetings and yelling on their cell phones stopping the spread of malaria or developing feasible alternatives to fossil fuels or making anything beautiful?

The busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness: Obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day. All this noise and rush and stress seem contrived to drown out or over up some fear at the center of our lives. I know that after I’ve spent a whole day working for running errands or answering emails or watching movies, keeping my brain busy and distracted, as soon as I lie down to sleep all the niggling quotidian worries and Big Picture questions I’ve successfully kept at bay come crowding into my brain like monsters swarming out of the closet the instant you turn off the nightlight. When you ty to meditate, your brain suddenly comes up with a list of a thousand urgent items you should be obsessing about rather than simply sit still. One of my correspondents suggests that what we’re all so afraid of is being left alone with ourselves.

I’ll say it: I am not busy. I am the laziest ambitious person I know. Like most writers, I feel like a reprobate who does not deserve to live on any day that I do not write, but I also feel like 4 or 5 hours is enough to earn my stay on the planet for one more day. On the best ordinary days of my life, I write in the morning, go for a long bike ride and run errands in the afternoon, and see friends, read or watch a movie in the evening. The very best days of my life are given over to uninterrupted debauchery, but these are, alas, undependable and increasingly difficult to arrange. This, it seems to me, is a sane and pleasant pace for a day. And if you call me up and ask whether I won’t maybe blow off work and check out the new American Wing at the Met or ogle girls in Central Park or just drink chilled pink minty cocktails all day long, I will say, “What time?"

But just recently, I insidiously started, because of professional obligation to become busy. For the first time in my life I was able to tell people, with a straight face, that I was “too busy” to do this or that thing they wanted me to do. I could see why people enjoy this complaint: It makes you feel important, sough-after, and put-upon. It’s also an unassailable excuse for declining boring invitations, shirking unwelcome projects, and avoiding human interaction. Except that I hated actually being busy. Every morning my inbox was full of emails asking me to do things I did not want to do or presenting me with problems that I had to solve. It got more and more intolerable, until finally I fled town to the Undisclosed Location from which I’m writing this.

Here I am largely unmolested by obligations. There is no TV. To check email I have to drive to the library. I go a week at a time without seeing anyone I know. I’ve remembered about buttercups, stinkbugs, and the stars. I read a lot. And I’m finally getting some real writing done for the first time in months. It’s hard to find anything to say about life without immersing yourself in the world, but it’s also just about impossible to figure out what that might be, or how best to say it, without getting the hell out of it again. I know not everyone has an isolated cabin to flee to. But not having cable or the Internet turns out to be cheaper than having them. And nature is still technically free, even if human beings have tried to make access to it expensive. Time and quiet should not be luxury items.

Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence, or a vice: It is an indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets. The space and quiet that idleness provides is a necessary condition for standing back from life and seeing it whole, for making unexpected connections and waiting for the wild summer lightning strikes of inspiration — it is, paradoxically, necessary to getting any work done. “Idle dreaming is often the essence of what we do,” writes Thomas Pynchon in his essay on Sloth. Archimedes’ “Eureka” in the bath, Newton’s apple, Jekyll and Hyde, the benzine ring: history is full of stories of inspiration that came in idle moments and dreams. It almost makes you wonder whether loafers, goldbrickers, and no-accounts aren’t responsible for more of the world’s great ideas, inventions, and masterpieces than the hardworking.

"The goal of the future is full unemployment, so we can play. That’s why we have to destroy the present politico-economic system.” This may sound like the pronouncement of some bong-smoking anarchist, but it was in fact Arthur C. Clarke, who found time between scuba diving and pinball games to write Childhood’s End and think up communications satellites. Ted Rall recently wrote a column proposing that we divorce income form work, giving each citizen a guaranteed paycheck, which sounds like the kind of lunatic notion that’ll be a basic human right in about a century, like abolition, universal suffrage, and 8-hour workdays. I know how heretical it sound in America, but there’s really no reason we shouldn’t regard drudgery as an evil to rid the world of if possible, like polio. It was the Puritans who perverted work into a virtue, evidently forgetting that God invented it as a punishment. Now that the old taskmaster is out of office, maybe we could all take a long smoke break.

I suppose the world would soon slide to ruin if everyone behaved like me. But I would suggest that an ideal human life lies somewhere between my own defiant indolence and the rest of the world’s endless frenetic hustle. My own life has admittedly been absurdly cushy. But my privileged position outside the hive may have given me a unique perspective on it. It’s like being the designated driver at a bar: When you’re not drinking, you can see drunkenness more clearly than those actually experiencing it. Unfortunately the only advice I have to offer the Busy is as unwelcome as the advice you’d give to the Drunk. I’m not suggesting everyone quit their jobs — just maybe take the rest of the day off. Go play some see-ball. Fuck in the middle of the afternoon. Take your daughter to a matinee. My role in life is to be a bad influence, the kid standing outside the classroom window making faces at you at your desk, urging you to just this once to make some excuse and get out of there, come outside and play. Even though my own resolute idleness has mostly been a luxury rather than a virtue, I did make a conscious decision, a long time ago, to choose time over money, since you can always make more money. And I’ve always understood that the best investment of my limited time on earth is to spend it with people I love. I suppose it’s possible I’ll lie on my deathbed regretting that I didn’t work harder, write more, and say everything I had to say, but I think what I’ll really wish is that I could have one more round of Delanceys with Nick, another long late-night talk with Lauren, one last hard laugh with Harold. Life is too short to be busy.

#lazy #busyness #busy #life

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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oovitus · 7 years

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Doctors Make the Worst Patients

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