enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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gutter talk

Delete!

I just deleted an incredibly sorry entry and I am glad to be done with it. I was feeling terrible about myself when I returned from work today. No true need for that.

I was reminded by a friend tonight that I can take control of the worry. It's not yet working--my chest is tight and sore--but making the decision to at least try to control stress is a first step.

Will I not feel happy until I start a new Ph.D. or complete the first one?

I'd rather that either not be the case. I'd feel so much better about myself if I could learn to heal myself and stand proud in the knowledge that I am good enough just as I am.

Believing that I am good enough does not come easily.

I started running again tonight. The goal, of course, is to control the running rather than the reverse. Does it centre me or does it hold me in a vise grip?

Ugh. I'm so tired of this perpetual treadmill of strain. Somebody shut it down, please. :)

Today was a bad day at work. But tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet. And sleep will do wonders.

And screw B3ll Canada. Has anyone ever received a CORRECT phone bill from them? I know, I know--I should get rid of my landline and start using my cell again...but I am old-fashioned.

In other amusing news, my slimy would-be seducer (seductress is a much grander, slicker word, is it not?) of a landlord happened to be unloading his car when I returned home tonight. He tried to invite himself into my apartment. For some reason he seems to have interpreted my three weeks of silent treatment as an invitation for more putrid attempts to get into my pants! Perhaps the true lesson from this is that I should, rather than simply revile him, attempt to take on his unrelentingly excessive expectations in approaching my own life.

I'm failing to make much sense at this moment so I will bid this diary adieu until tomorrow.

Out of curiosity, can anyone tell which girl I am in the picture to the right? That picture amuses me greatly as I was absolutely the WORST softball player on the planet (except that I had a great arm). I only joined the team because I looked up to an older girl. I think the team lived to regret it because I was NEVER able to properly hit a ball. This, in the end, is why it is so astounding that I ultimately became a good athlete. I was a terrible athlete as a child! And in university I developed a little beer paunch.

Speaking of my beer gut, I was on the phone tonight with the friend who first pointed it out to me. I remember precisely that it was in the summer of 1989. Can you believe it? We were sitting out on the back terrace of our townhouse in university, sunning ourselves. I was wearing a pink string bikini. For some reason she objected to my beer paunch. :) (I did enjoy my beer in those days, and I never much noticed the extra bit of weight that I apparently carried; this is healthy, I think.)

How times have changed. Back then she was the runner. Today, in the pep talk that she called to give me in light of my sadness, she pointed out that I can do anything to which I set my mind. Only I--in her unrelentingly supportive eyes, anyhow-- could shift myself from beer paunch to six-pack and marathon winner. And paint paintings that she thinks worthy of her living room walls. And do statistics. She sort of has a point--at least in as much as it is productive to appreciate one's capabilities, however limited, instead of always focusing on what one is not--although it doesn't exactly help to point out that I am effectively mad and almost certainly a bit OC. If only I could channel my energy appropriately and to do good, instead of to fall flat on my face and beat myself up relentlessly over every misstep.

OK. Enough sad talk for tonight. Tomorrow I start my regime of focusing my attention elsewhere. I'm going to try to think of appropriate puzzles to which I can turn my attention.

6:53 p.m. - 2006-10-24

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