Stress: What do we do without it?

Isn't it kind of nice to be stressed sometimes? It's like a thousand possible decisions have been taken out of our hands.

You can't commit to going to spin class on Thursday, because you're just so stressed out! You can't plan your meals for the next week because you are busy, busy, busy! How in the world can you know if you'll be free to run a 5k in March -- and train for it -- when you don't even know where your boss is going to send you on assignment next week? Right?

That used to be my life. Now I have a new job. What do I miss? My stress.

Stress is what kept me from feeling sad. Stress is what kept me from asking myself why I was eating too much. Stress kept a lot of feelings at bay.

This Thanksgiving, I experienced a real lack of stress. To tell you the truth, there was so little stress, it kind of stressed me out! What was I supposed to worry about...when there was nothing to worry about?

I can find a lot of things, of course. There's always cause for concern in this world, sadly.

But right now, my job is to focus on me. What have I been hiding under all my stress?

So I made one of these:

It's got apples, and brown sugar, and lemon, and a lot more brown sugar. I make it once a year, at M's special request. And we've been eating it, slowly, piece by piece, for the past three days.

And we are taking a lot of walks in Central Park, mainly because we can see this:


But I think my favorite might be this. It was taken with a crappy cell phone, but it was a beautiful Thanksgiving weekend day, and I don't think our walk could have been more perfect.

My goals are simple: walk as much as I can, eat small bites and even smaller portions, and find at least one reason to laugh each day.

Tomorrow is another chance for a good day. Probably won't be perfect, but I can make it a good day.

Still Kicking

Not literally, because of those darned neuromas, but... metaphorically, don't you know.

So, my bloggie friends, I have changed jobs. It's been brutal. Because change..well. You know. It's change. Not slow, bloody-takes-forever weight-loss change, but one-week-you-are-here-and-now-you-are-not change.

It's been hard. My job has dominated my life for the past five years and I will admit that without it I am somewhat...er, at loose ends. I wish I could say I'd filled that void with constant exercise, but that would not be the truth.

However, I have been forging ahead, in spite of myself. There is a great yoga studio just one block from my office. Now, I'll tell you a secret: I don't really like yoga. I like to say that I do, and I get great pleasure from thinking about yoga, and going online to look at yoga classes, and generally pretending to myself that I am a yoga lover.

But when I get to the classes, I'm always the biggest, sweatiest person present, and the poses f***ing hurt sometimes, and my arms and legs shake in the most embarrassing way.

But I'll be darned if I haven't developed an appreciation for the classes at Yoganesh, my sore knees aside. It's pretty darn awesome.

I'll try to come back soon. But if I'm MIA for awhile again, it's just because I'm trying desperately to forge a new path for myself outside my chosen profession. I'll adjust, but it will take a some time. Meanwhile, the damn neuromas are still making my life a misery. Can't stand 'em.