thanks

Days like this have been few and far between lately, so, I guess it makes sense that I was due for one. Today, I feel totally useless and talentless. I feel like a drain on society. I feel like I'll only ever be qualified for a part-time job as a secretary. (Did I mention I LOST MY STUDENT'S GRADES?) In short, I feel pretty crappy. Probably because I started looking at MSLIS programs again, and it became overwhelming. Regardless, I've decided to counter this new bout of blue thoughts with sunny thanksgiving. Here goes:

Today, I'm thankful for:
the best, most fun family ever.
a genuinely nice, honest, and jovial husband (who cooked me dinner last night!).
the upcoming christmas season.
a roof, running water, and a warm place to sleep.
my jobs.
a car that works.
zero wedding debt.
a sunny day.
friends who like being friends with me.
health! vigor! (vim?)

I do. I feel better. Honest!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Remember to be thankful, because there's so much to give thanks for.

nanowrimo!

I just like saying "nanowrimo."

Here's what I don't like: realizing that every time I try to write any fiction it comes out seeming either half-assed or a lot like an autobiography. Why can't I just make stuff up without it sounding like crap, or worse, without it sounding forced.

That's okay, because the joy of nanowrimo is that you just write. It's impossible to worry about the nitty-gritty "I sound like a phony, I don't want Holden Caufield to hate me," business, because you've only got THIRTY DAYS to write 50,000 words. So it's just all a bunch of crap, anyway.

I am having fun exploring characters, and learning from them about what they do and where they go. Sometimes they do things that I definitely did not anticipate, so that's exciting. It's also annoying, because things start getting...different...than what I originally planned on. That's where the forcedness comes in, I guess. Sorry! Just trying to stick to my purpose! I imagine my characters rolling their eyes.

Also, holy dark, Batman! I guess I just have a thing for melodrama.

livejournal

So...my livejournal posts are about 800-times smarter and are more well-written than these.

I guess I have some things to think about, then. Maybe I should ditch this and move back to LJ. It kind of reminds me of how I've gotten progressively dumber the longer I've stayed in academia.

Maybe I just need to post more often.

In other news: NANOWRIMO! National Novel Writing Month fast approaches, and I'm actually going to try and do it this year. The goal is to write 50,000 words by November 30th. So, it's a novel-writing frenzy, and as you might imagine, most of the novels that are spewed forth from NaNoWriMo are complete crap. Still, I think any writing effort is worth, well, the effort, and it's all in good fun. So, if you're doing it, be my writing friend! My username is cocobutter.

t-minus 5

I've been going back and forth this past week between utter joy and total confusion. When did this happen? How? And more importantly, why?

So, in homage to the great institution of Marriage, and also in a final attempt at self-reassurance, I've decided to compile my thoughts on an oft-contested way of life:

1. I think marriage should be between two people who love each other unconditionally, and who come to the mutual agreement that they want to spend and build their lives together. And that's pretty much my only criteria (of course there are caveats...like no creepy kidnappers who want to marry 13-year-old girls, for example).

2. Yes, 50% of people who get married get divorced. But we don't know all the details. And according to this, 75% of people who divorce get re-married. That tells me one thing: marriage is worth the trouble. Otherwise, more people who were divorced would swear off it for good. I'm not celebrating that so many marriages end with a divorce, but I AM celebrating the fact that there must have been enough good within the institution itself that they gave it another try.

3. I find the idea of sharing my life with someone else endlessly exhilerating. All that learning, growing, and changing that happens between two people is certainly what I would consider a positive aspect to marriage. The idea of having a built-in best friend is so fantastic to me!

4. We've become a people of instant gratification and low-commitment. People say that a lot, but think about how true it is: we're channel-surfing TiVo-ers, we'll buy pre-peeled potatoes and pre-cut celery, at a restaurant we'd like our food to be presented to us without delay, and we really just hate to be in one place for too long. We are seldom in silence, or solitude. Car leases allow us to trade up every couple years. We have short memories (you probably haven't thought much about BP lately...neither have I!). What a challenge, then, for us to make this promise: that we will love someone for as long as we live (read: until we're dead). We're confronted with so few real challenges anymore! It's refreshing to have to try and work at something, especially when we think it's worth the effort. There's a kind of glory in continuity (not to be sappy (PUN!), but it's not unlike being around for a long time to watch a tree you planted grow into something fruit-bearing or shade-producing).

5. I was fortunate to grow up with an excellent model for a good marriage. My parents are not perfect, and they sometimes get angry with each other. There have been times that one has hurt the other. But, those times are often followed by peaceful apologies. They have always been loving toward us and loving toward each other. I know that they have made many sacrifices and compromises--shock!--but it is only through sacrifice that they have been able to cultivate a constant mutual love and understanding. I hope my marriage is as loving and happy (and fun and light-hearted!) as theirs.

That's probably about it. I'm not married yet, but it is for the above reasons that I can't wait. I'm up for the challenge! I'm ready to live a life of purpose!

And for what it's worth, I think everyone, regardless of sexual orientation, is capable of the kind of lasting, loving, selfless relationship I'm talking about here. I think everyone should get the opportunity to scream it from the rooftops, or to get it printed in his or her local paper (see here).

good-bye, gladys.

Well, that's the end of her. Gladys is dead, and the proceeds are benefitting NHPR (I think). With her leaky trunk, rusted spare, broken passenger-side window, wilted ceiling, dented side, seized calipers, and broken radio, you'd think I'd be doing leaps for joy! Well, you'd think right. But first I had a moment of silence in that old hunk of metal.

I thanked her for not breaking down until I pulled into my driveway.

I yelled at the chipmunks that tried to make a home in her engine.

I lovingly gave her a last, thorough vacuuming.

Together we sat in silence, as I reminisced about our days traveling to Vermont, New York, and Maine.

I turned the reading lamps on and off.

When I came home today from Manchester--my not-so-distant-future home--she was gone.

...moving on. Did you hear I bought a new car? :)

swoop me!

Mondays are lame. Today was a totally gorgeous day and what did I do? Well, actually I finished commenting on some drafts, e-mailed students, packed up my books, took a shower, watched Sailor Moon (HAHAHA, sometimes you just get a hankering), and then went to work.

Now that I think of it, today's been pretty productive. I also looked at my bank account just in time to transfer money from one account to the other before it got overdrawn! I would consider that a success, for certain.

On a different note, and relating to my last post, I went to church this past Sunday. It was mysterious all right...and boring. Really boring. What? I'm human. Anyway, I blame it on the deacon, who is a terrible public speaker.

Spirtual thoughts...

I've been reading my friend Bryan's blog a lot lately, and it has me thinking about my take on religious life.

I guess I'd be more apt in calling it an irreligious life.

Here's the truth, right to the point: In college I decided I didn't quite believe that Jesus was the Messiah. A cool guy, maybe, with a nice message and words to live by, but whether God literally sent him to be our savior is something I'm not convinced of. So, that's an issue. Also, I am what might be described as a bad Catholic.

I find myself struggling with my Catholicism a lot lately because of the colliding forces of the blogosphere, my impending nuptials, and Natural Family Planning (endorsed by the Couple to Couple League, a Catholic entity). It's good to remind yourself of why you do things every once in a while.

I have a primal urge to raise my children in a traditional, Catholic manner. It's my culture, it's my people. I want them to march solemnly in white down the aisle for their First Communions, just as badly as I want them to anxiously wrack their brains for something to confess when first confronted with the Sacrament of Penance. The whole process of Catholicism is not unlike running the gauntlet, with many trials on the way to salvation. But that's what's so great! Salvation is earned, it's not a free pass. You want forgiveness? You have to ask somebody, and you have to be really sorry. You'll actually have to prove how sorry you are. That's where the Hail Marys come in (at least, that's what they say in the movies). I like that. It's all about action, and hopefully, sincerity.

Don't get me started on the mystery of it all. The Catholic Church, I'm sure, prides itself on its sense of mystery and suspense. Ceremonial gowns, candlelit altars, drifting incense. It's such a production, such a show of faith. The bell rings in the tower at the precise moment when the wine makes it miraculous transformation into blood. As the congregations kneels before Christ's body, the choir begins its melodic peals on cue. You almost expect a curtain to lift, and the cast to come out, bowing emphatically for the grand finale.

Eventually all this, the chanting, singing, kneeling, praying, it all becomes rote. Somewhere, something is lost. The meaning of the Word floats somewhere above the incense, impossible for parishioners to grasp. But even then, it's still okay, because this weekly repetition is itself a form of prayer: it is meditation, losing yourself and your consciousness in the motions; it's a kind of unthinking, undoing. It is a way to be present in the moment.

I remember when I was a senior in high school, my English teacher, Mrs. Mountford, was describing a poem to us. I don't remember the poem, but I remember the direction of the discussion: Christianity, and the body of Christ. She said, "Think about that for a minute...eating the body of Christ." The thought struck me: I was a cannibal, and so was everyone in my family. It only felt outdated, though. Just a remnant of our collective mysterious past. I knew it was only bread and wine. I felt smarter than the Eucharist.

While all that pomp might be problematic for my non-Catholic friends, for me, it's a source of solace and comfort. While the world continues to spiral into chaos, here are the Roman Catholics, holding on to their traditions for dear life. It's life-affirming. It's cozy continuity. It's coffee and doughnuts in the church basement.

So, while I might have a hundred problems with Catholicism, for me, it's the cultural aspect that is a constant draw. It's ethnic, in some way. It's living out my Italian/French-Canadian heritage. I don't feel guilty that I'm not a perfect Catholic. I've never felt guilty about skipping church or swearing. Either I'm too demonic to feel good old fashioned Catholic guilt, or I just don't think there's any to be had. Guilt is what you make of it. The only time I ever feel guilty is when I'm in the presence of some other kind of Christian and they make it a point to talk about "Christianity" as if it is the opposite of "Catholicism." I don't think they're the opposite. But for some reason, I just keep on feeling guilty about BEING Catholic. Like it's a dirty thing to be, like I'm somehow unworthy. Like I don't really know what's going on--as if my Christian identity is lost in a fog of incense. It's guilt I'm never quite prepared to bear, and I resent it. Part of the guilt is really just paranoia, but I resent that, too. Maybe resentment is the new guilt?

epidermal vanities

My skin is breaking out. And not into song.

All along my jaw line I've been getting these deep, painful pimples that just will not go away. They are large red bumps that hurt like the dickens! I've decided to try something other than wishing them away.

Despite my initial nerves surrounding salicylic acid (I was afraid I'd be allergic to it), I decided to buy Aveeno Clear Complexion. The ridiculous price of $14.99 actually seemed cheap compared to other cleansing products in the same aisle (who pays $30.00 for face wash?!), so I figured I'd give it a whirl. The Aveeno brand seems like a very gentle, earthy face wash (I'm sure it's neither, but I'm a sucker for good marketing). I used it this morning, and so far, no ill-effects.

Hopefully the ol' pimple chin-strap will clear up by the time the wedding rolls around.

profesora!

Well, well, well. Back in the saddle, as they (who?) say.

It feels good to be doing something substantial again, even if it is teaching college composition to a bunch of teenagers who don't really want to be there. I had only a slight hint of nervousness as I entered the classroom this morning, and it had pretty much disappeared by the time I opened my mouth.

As usual, I made myself look like an idiot on day one. It's fine. I read a lot of Emerson to them today. I wanted to get them excited about learning! Excited about themselves! Excited about their potential as the centers of their own universes! I saw some shining faces, so it worked on a couple of them, at least. One girl did say, "Um, we spent a lot of time reading Transcendentalists in high school so...I pretty much know a lot about it." And I wanted to scream, "THAT'S NOT THE POINT." But I didn't.

I get more out of Emerson every single time I read him. Today was no different. How controversial to exclaim that YOU are the center of the universe, and not God. What freedom (and with it, responsibility). It's definitely egocentric--I guess that's kind of the meaning of the word--but I don't read it as selfish. It's more like communion with the great web of brain-waves that exists in the world. By understanding yourself, and having confidence in your ability to make your own decisions and change your own mind, you understand others. Understanding others means that ultimately, you have the power to know everything. I want to cry just thinking about it.

My other class, Intro to English II (a.k.a. Remedial Composition Skills) went just as swimmingly. The students seemed engaged, and I managed to hold them for the whole two hours. We started right off the bat with a lot of freewriting, list-making, peer-responding...and I think it got them in the spirit. I did not read them Emerson.

Actually, maybe I should have. That's elitist of me, to think that the Intro students wouldn't appreciate the sentiments of my favorite T-ist (or Transcy, if you prefer). I'm guilty of playing into the stereotypes. Well, that's it. Friday, I'm reading them some poetry to make up for it. Whitman, anyone?

I made them call me Professor Condo. I feel like I'm getting away with something illegal. Tee hee!

jinx!

I jinxed Sal!

I wrote that sad post about lonely old Sal, and now he has to quit work because (surprise!) his dad is ill and he has to live with him and be his full-time caregiver.

Sal's life does not QUIT with the sad-making.

On the plus side, Sal gave me half of his chicken BLT last night. The bacon was delicious.

Also! One week until new apartment move-in! Well, technical move-in. I won't really be living there until after the weddin' day.

Salogna

Meet Sal. Sal is a lonely 30-year-old who works for his brother's landscaping business. He used to have a girlfriend, but she dumped him when, after seven years, he refused to propose marriage. At night, Sal works at a local college as a secretary, hoping that it'll allow him to take a few more classes for free. Someday, Sal would like to be a big-time business man. For now, Sal answers the phone in a professional and pleasant tone and brings in tootsie rolls for his coworker.

Sal makes me sad.

Sal also kind of freaks me out, especially when he confirmed my half-joking suspicion that there might be "spirits" dwelling in the building.

5 things to do when you have nothing to do (workplace edition)

1. get a list of to-do's from a supervisor or co-worker. it always feels good to have a task, and doing it well means you might get some brownie points. not to mention it makes the time go by faster.

2. check the supply closet. everybody hates doing it, and, while nobody will notice that you've restocked the paper supply or filled some empty staplers, the workplace will run smoother and be more enjoyable.

3. consider redecorating. if you have some down-time, try downloading a calendar template online and plugging it in with important work or personal dates. add fun pictures or colors. print and post in your cube or office. you'll feel like you did something worthwhile, because you did...it's all in the name of remaining organized!

4. wash away the grime. run through a list of people who have touched your office phone, keyboard, desk, stapler, or pens. consider disinfecting said items. seeing you do this may inspire others to do the same, and if you're not all healthier for it, well, at least you get the satisfaction of seeing all the dirt that got lifted off the number pad.

5. give a warm hello. record, or re-record, your voicemail greetings. if you can, make yourself smile while doing it--people will notice how nice you seem, without ever meeting you.

all i want is a room somewhere...

3 second update: found a new job or two, car broke down, wedding in three months, looking for a decent apartment.

It's the last bit that has me apprehensive.

I think looking for a nice apartment in an area you like for a price you can afford is just downright difficult. Now, if I were looking in Dover, or Portsmouth, or somewhere cool, finding an apartment would be a breeze. But I'm looking in Nashua, Manchester, and some surrounding towns. I'm looking for something under $1,000. And I'm looking for two bedrooms. This means I'll either be living in some crime-ridden area, or living in some rural town with terrible cell-phone service.

And we're kind of picky.

The hardest part is that I don't really want it until September 1st, maybe October 1st. I can't help looking now, though, because I feel like I need a finger on the pulse of current apartment-renting trends! It makes me ever so much more eager to start looking in real life, but I know it's useless, because all the places that are advertising now want to get someone in there ASAP.

I'm sick of CraigsList. At least for this purpose. It's the same people over and over again trying to rent their same crappy apartments ("NEWLY REDUCED!!!!" "W/D HOOKUPS!!!" "1 MONTH RENT FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"). We saw only two places we were really interested in, and when I called, both had been rented already. So, we'll see how it all goes, but I think that finding a place to live that both people feel they can call home is going to be the hardest thing yet.

Retraction!

So, in a previous post, I noted that Pete said our potential wedding DJ sounded a little tooly on the phone.

Well, we met with DJ Greg in person, and he was AWESOME. Like, awesome. We're so happy with our choice; we didn't meet with anyone else about prices or selection because he's so cool. So cool, in fact, that when I mentioned a song he didn't have, he downloaded it on the spot from iTunes (which cost him money, you know) before we even booked him. He also met us a lot closer to home (right in Manchester), and he was very understanding and excited about everything.

So, what I'm trying to say is: Sorry, Greg! Before we met, I had faith in you despite Pete's analysis, and after we met, we decided that Pete's analysis was absolutely totally wrong, and that you were the perfect DJ for us. The end.

Other news: October 30th draws nearer, and we haven't done much more planning. Not that there's really all that much to do. I think today I'm going to email the lady from the Pelham Inn and see if we can get our pies warmed up before they serve them (it's something that's been weight heavily on my mother's mind).

I'm applying for a job today in Canaan, NH for English teaching. I think I've been using the presumption that I will hate high school teaching as a mask for the real reason I've been putting off applying to more teaching jobs: I'm afraid. Afraid of failure, afraid I'll hate it, afraid of parents, and mostly afraid of the students themselves. But, I had a long talk with myself the other day, and here's what it boiled down to: did you hate your job when you taught at UNH? No. Do you hate your job now? Yes. Now to build the courage to mail that application. :)

one of those days

So, I got a "talking to" yesterday at work. It's pretty out of my character to just flat-out forget about people, but that's what happened. Some customers came in looking for bridesmaid dresses, and I helped them for about ten minutes before I had to go help a bride, and thus, they were forgotten. What I didn't realize was that they had an appointment, so, that's pretty bad. Still, they were jerky. First of all, they got pissed when I told them we didn't have every dress in every single size (sorry, but if you try on the 12 and it's small but you LIKE the dress, then we can just order it in the correct size for you. That isn't the exact dress you'll be wearing in the wedding, so chill if it's not the right size). Then, Bridey got annoyed that we didn't have the dresses she wanted to look at in the color she wanted. Then, I got stuck with a bride and I forgot about the annoying people, and they complained--A LOT--about me. Here's how my "talking to" went:

Boss: "So, those women were really upset. What do you think happened?"
Me: "Well, I forgot about them."
Boss: (Momentary shock at candor). "Well, I'm glad you're honest."
Me: Nods awkwardly
Boss: "That was a lot of money we almost lost. You're going to lose this bride, now, and she's going to someone else."
Me: (Hoping my relief at never having to talk to those women again does not show on my face). "Okay."
Boss: "This is unlike you, so, we'll just chalk it up to experience. Good talk. Don't lose sleep over it."
Me: "Don't worry."
Boss: "We good?" (Smiles widely) "I make mistakes ALL the time!!!" (Rolls eyes and exaggerates in order to make me feel like we're on the same level).
Me: "Okay. I'm going to go wash my mirrors now. Thanks."

Bahhhh. Stupid.

P.S. how's that for an "and then" story?

i'm gonna be a quarterback someday and throw for 2,000 yards

Well, the last post belonged to a different blog. So, sorry about that. But maybe it was a nice change?

News on the personal front: started NFP (natural family planning) class last night. We received it as an early wedding present from Laura and Keith. It's surprisingly interesting, I must say. I mean, the 5th grade anatomy lesson wasn't very interesting, but making charts and plotting points is something I enjoy, so this might be right up me and Pete's alley. That's all I'll say about it. It's kind of fun.

News on the wedding front: meeting with DJ Solerus tonight. And by DJ Solerous, I mean DJ Greg Sowa, son of Mr. Sowa, middle school Social Studies teacher. You can see his website here. He looks like a lot of fun. Ally goes to college with him (ha, he's a senior at UNH) and says he's a pretty good guy, despite Pete's analysis that DJ Greg sounds like a tool on the phone. I still believe in him! I'm excited to meet him, because I think he'll be a DJ that will play a lot of Lady Gaga, which is what I want.

News on the job front: who knows? On Wednesday I called the community college where I interviewed at, and they didn't get back to me yet. I might call again today. I also need to call Pete's work (they had an opening for customer service people). I'm also applying for AmeriCorps VISTA stuff again, because I just really need skills, and really have none (as far as grant writing, fundraising, and all that stuff is concerned). I'd like to work for a non-profit someday, so those skills would definitely come in handy. This time, I will not be convinced it is a bad idea. I still have bad days where I just want to cry all day in my bed, but they're a lot fewer than before.

boot bandwagon

So, I have these boots, and I'm pretty sure I haven't worn them since the capsule challenge of many months ago. I just fear that boots make my calves look big, as I have already expressed in previous posts. Still, I kind of like what's going on here.

This outfit is meant for work, though the corduroy skirt might be a tad casual for my work environment. I'm liking all the colors together: though I tend to think of jewel tones as fall-only, my last post and today's post both make use of them. It just goes to show that tealy/turquoise is a color for all seasons. As far as the casualness is concerned, I'm not that worried. The white button-up and sweater vest take care of that, methinks. The only thing I am worried about is comfort. I'm on my feet the whole time at work, bringing heavy dresses back and forth to customers all day long. I'll probably bring a change of shoe.

But, since B is basically obsessed with boots, I figured I'd give them another shot. I don't even hate the way they make my legs look, and I'm not sure if it's because I've lost a little weight since the last time I've worn them, or if it's because I just don't care as much about adding a little bulk to the calf area. Regardless, I like it all.

Boots: Marshall's or TJ Maxx
White shirt, teal vest: Old Navy
Beige skirt: hand-me-down, Old Navy
Brown tights: Target
Brown socks: Marshall's

can't wait for tomorrow

...because tomorrow I have the day off, and I have an interview. Lately, David's Bridal has been hating me. I don't sell enough, I don't even pretend to be a salesperson, and they're starting to catch on. At first they thought it was because I was new. Now they see that it's my personality. I feel guilty "asking for the sale." I don't know, I feel like, buy it if you want to, but not because I want you to. Of course, being in the sales business, I guess I have to get better at leading people subliminally, without outwardly steering. It's hard! I have respect for good salespeople, for sure, because it is definitely an art.

So, back to my point: interview tomorrow. It's at Nashua Community College, and even though it's only for a secretary position, I am feeling really hopeful. It would be in the Academic Affairs office, and it would help me know some people, so that maybe one day I could get good references or even move up. I applied to another job at NCC, that of Academic Advisor, which I actually think my education and experience have prepared me for, but I'm doubtful about that one.

Plus, I haven't really told anyone about my experience going to Simmons College the other day for an open house in their GLIS (Graduate Library and Information Science) department. It was AWESOME and basically sealed the fact that I want to be a librarian. That's why I can endure jobs that I am overqualified for: I am shooting for a someday goal, and I keep telling myself that David's Bridal and anything else is just temporary. With the wedding and marriage and all I won't be able to start until maybe next fall, which gives me some time to gather my materials and put together a showstopping application. It also gives me time to research programs; when there are only 52 in the U.S., you really have to do some soul-searching about where you want to go and what exactly you hope to do there. The program in Denver looks pretty cool, though.

And because I have to share:

That's me, in my mom's wedding dress, laughing at the thought of ever fitting into it. It's okay because, according to her, "It's SO UGLY!"

i need space! and friends.

Okay, so, for all you four people who read my blog: I am back. I am back because I need a space. I need a space because lately (no one's fault but my own) I feel isolated. As we all know, the Internet does wonders for the isolated (physically or emotionally--Second Life, anyone?)

Moving on.

I think I'm suffering from wedding apathy. Maybe it's because it doesn't feel real yet, or maybe it's because we've been rushing through the planning, but I'd be happy as a clam just taking a jaunt over to town hall to get the whole thing over with this weekend. Here is an example: for some reason, it doesn't seem overly crazy to just drive to the chapel in a regular car, rather than a limo. It's just going to be myself and my sister in the limo, right? And then on the way back it's just going to be myself and Pete. It just doesn't make much sense to me to spend money on something that is totally and completely for show, and which, on top of that, stirs up feelings of motion sickness. I understand that 99% of weddings are just for show, so I guess there goes that argument, but I don't know...I feel like a freshly-washed and waxed minivan wouldn't be the worst thing ever. Maybe it would.

On top of things like that, I have been eating. I mean, eating a lot more sweets and snacks than I have been in the past couple months. I was doing FANTASTIC with weight loss, if I do say so myself. I only have about 15 more pounds until I get to the goal I set for myself (not the ultimate goal, but a smaller one). I think I'm stressed about being apathetic, and it's feeding my feedings, if you get my drift. I am a stress eater, for sure, and it has been SO HARD to avoid treats. So hard, in fact, that I haven't been avoiding them at all. I always said I would be one of those people who, as soon as they are engaged, go on an immediate starvation diet of cough drops and lemon water, just to look good at the wedding. Instead, I have shown myself to be one of those brides who needs to buy a second wedding dress because hers no longer fits. That hasn't happened yet, but if habits don't change...

So, I'm hereby making a promise to myself, and to you, dear readers. I am going to be more salad, and less cookie. I am going to be more exercise, less lounge. And I am going to be more proactive, and less apathetic, because the latter is actually stressing me out more.

It's just a confusing and stressful time. But not, if you know what I mean.