It’s really hard to stay positive. I’m not exactly a positive person to begin with. I would call myself a Realist. Practical. Grounded.
Plenty of people would just call me a bitch. I’ll give you two guesses on whether or not I care.
Whatever we would call me, I am struggling. With life in general. That would be the primary reason that I have not posted anything in about a month. When the Chubby Chick isn’t doing much, running or otherwise, there isn’t much to write about. And I try really hard not to bring people down with me. Sometimes, though, sharing can be cathartic.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that everything for everyone else is unicorns and champagne. I
stalk read plenty of other blogs, and am regularly stalking people catching up on facebook, and there are plenty of people that are struggling with something. And to be perfectly honest, I think anyone that does try to say that things are always great is full of it.
I struggle to get my runs in. Triathlon training has been right out the window for weeks now. I’m completely over working 2 jobs trying desperately trying to make ends meet. I don’t know that I will even be able to afford the triathlon, even if my training were up to par. Hell, I’d be happy to even be in the vicinity of par. My weight loss has stalled. I’m trying to be content with the fact that I haven’t backslid much, considering the lack of consistent exercise, and and the frequent ingestion of (Insert Holiday Here) candy. I can’t watch the Reds play, because when I do, they lose. It’s like Drew Stubbs doesn’t want to be my imaginary boyfriend anymore. Hubby said he was going to start calling me Billy Beane (go watch Moneyball if you don’t get it).
More than anything, I feel like it just been a series a small things that continues to pile up on me. And most of them aren’t directly related, which I think often makes it worse, because then I feel like I can’t catch a break. Anywhere. Ever. And that’s when it started feeling easier to just quit. But I don’t like quitting. So I complain instead.
For example, over the weekend I had ordered new running shoes online. They were on sale, I also had a $10 off coupon, and snagged free shipping. Normally $90, bought for $40. Score. I had been keeping track of the shipping, and while the estimated delivery date said the 12th, it was looking like they would show up today. As I was getting out of bed, I happened to see the Fedex truck pull up across the street. Naturally, I was very excited. By the time I finished getting dressed, the truck left, never having brightened my doorway. Confused, I checked the tracking info. Again. “Dropped off at local United States Postal location. Please allow an additional 1-2 days delivery time.”
What? Are you freaking kidding me? HE WAS JUST ACROSS THE STREET!! I could have had my new shoes in my grubby little hands by now! Why Fedex? Why would you do this to me?
Naturally, I promptly hunted down Hubby to complain about my unfair life and proclaim my hatred for Fedex. The conversation went something like this:
“I hate Fedex. They’re stupid. There was a truck just across the street, but then drove away, so I checked the tracking info, and got this! [promptly shoved my phone in his face] Really?! They’re a delivery service! Why on earth do they need to dump it to another delivery service?! I could have had my shoes today, but instead they’re going to be taking the scenic route around Columbus! I knew I got too good a deal on them…. $90 shoes for $40, now I’m paying for it. With my luck, they’ll get delivered to some other house, and I’ll NEVER see them!”
Dramatic, I know.
However, all things eventually move on, even bad luck. Like the changing of the seasons, the circle of life, blah, blah, blah. You know what I’m getting at. Hopefully this afternoon is a good omen of things to come…
Look what showed up the mail today. What? You were expecting a different color? C'mon now.