A baby I love so much.. (and her momma too!)

Whoosh

It's almost November, oddly enough. So much has happened in the last month alone, and I feel I'm running to keep up these days. The city and I did not get off to a good start this morning and I don't think it got as warm as the weather guy told me it would be. Now that I stop and reflect, this entire week has been a bit strenuous. I think readjusting from my time in Texas has taken an entire week.

All before 9:00 today, I went to the gym, made a pot of coffee, stopped by a friends apartment to make sure her cat wasn't trapped in her bedroom (long story), got stuck underneath the city in a subway between 51st and 42nd "due to an earlier incident" for 12 minutes which made me three minutes late to work. Which is not too bad, all things considered. Tuesday, I was called at 7:00am and asked if I could make it in by 8:00am. Sure thing. I'll get right on it. So I was out the door by 7:30am and there were no cabs to be found, of course, because it was pouring. I hoof my way to the subway, stopping along the way to try and wave down a non-exist taxi-cab. I made it to the subway stop at 7:54. I arrived at Grand Central by 7:57 and in the doors of the office on the 19th floor at 8:04am soggy and sweaty beneath my synthetic tights, polyester-blend dress, and pleather knee boots.

And, it's okay now, but my first day back from Texas, last Friday, Chris took me to look at new apartments and I thought WW III was about to break out- or possibly he could just live downtown and I could live uptown. He could have the bachelor pad with the flat-screen TV, refrigerator just for beer and order take out every night. I'll keep my 10128 ZIP code and highrise studio, thank you very much.

I was kind of bratty. I hate moving. And packing. And cleaning. I just hate the idea of it. It wears me out. (And let's be honest, I do most of the packing and cleaning and quite frankly- it is a beating.) After a week of this unspoken tension, maybe unspoken is not the word but unknown tension, we have come to a resolution.

We can move. Chris's commute is a hassle and he hates it. And I realize this and I love him, I love him more than I hate the idea of moving. So, we will see what we can find. We can't move until our lease is up, we can't afford to throw away month's of rent- we agree on that. And we'll look closer to that date. There are great spaces for rent now, and there will be then too. So, even if we loose our washer and dryer, and our gym and our large kitchen-- I will make it work. And I realize most people wouldn't mind sending out their laundry or eating out more or saying "screw it" to the whole exercise thing, but I am not most people and I want what I want. Oh, wedded bliss.

I feel like once the page on the calendar flips over to November and I see that cornucopia spilling out with corn and wheat and apples and gourds, it will set in that the holidays are here. They are no longer coming, or something to look forward to, but actually upon us. We're in the midst.

Christmas in New York- so magical.

Where to begin...

So, you know when you join a gym and you are going, like, a consistent 4 or 5 days a week? I mean you are going strong. Feeling good. Feeling healthy. You meet someone in kickboxing class, Jennifer. She tells you where to get inexpensive sports bras. The girl at the front desk knows your membership number and the guy at the smoothie bar knows you like Soy Protein Powder. You look toned and radiant. Then, it's your anniversary weekend and you miss a few days. Then you go on a two week vacation- and miss two more weeks. Then, you return home and want to spend the weekend with your husband. This is a three-day weekend of course- he did take off work on Friday for you. And after all, if he did take off work for you then you shouldn't waste time at the gym.

Then you feel lethargic. Bloated. Lazy. And quite embarrassed for missing so much time away from the gym. You were good at the gym. You were the gym goddess. You looked forward to it and actually enjoyed it. People commented on how well you looked and how refreshed you seemed. Now, you wonder if you could ever go back there again. How pathetic.

After being away for almost a month (and people are noticing & asking) you decide to just start where you are.

So, here I am. Starting. It's not the gym for me--- it's this blog! I have a problem called an "all or nothing worldview." I am such a perfectionist that it often causes me to quit before I even actually give myself a chance. I am going to do it (the it being anything), do it good, do it right, do it until I give myself an ulcer or a hernia or a heart attack. (And by the way, I think everyone should do everything like this too. Yeah, you, why aren't you a perfectionist like I am?)

I am completely overwhelmed with where to start and what to say because I feel like I have so much to say, but obviously that must not be the case, 'cause I sure ain't saying much!

Someone asked me, "So, now you have a full-time job and can't write?" Sadly enough, that is pretty much the case. However, I will do this thing. I will get pictures up soon too, of my trip home and the people and places I saw while I was there. I missed home. I hated leaving alot this time. I asked myself why I was living so, so far away from the people who love me most. Then I remembered my current mantra- To Love Well. Love Well. Love Well. I am in NYC to love well. To love the unlovable and lonely and worn out folks. I do love NYC.

I have been writing though. In my journal. Only you can't read my journal, but I'll share an excerpt I wrote on my plane ride back to NYC.

"I am pretty sure the lady sitting beside me in 8F does not like the way I smell of patchouli and almond. She keeps covering her nose and is leaning purposefully toward the center aisle. But, I don't like the way she smells of curry and saffron (or turmeric, or whatever that smell is). So, I guess we're even. And stuck here for the next 2 1/2 hours."

(And now, as much as I want to go on and on, I must go back to work...)