I got home tonight and realized my basement project is going to turn into a huge headache. So much for just putting stuff away. The way the concrete was laid means my washer/dryer and laundry tub probably can't go back where they were - the slant is too sever. The flooring in the gear room and supply closet were only half taken out so now the floor is uneven. The workers didn't totally clean up like they said they would. And they scuffed and gouged my hall walls so those have to get patched and painted. I want to cry but I can't muster up the energy. I'm exhausted from work, so much to do and feeling pressure to not say no. I wasn't able to work out yesterday and today's workout was only 30 minutes long when it was supposed to be an hour. I had a lovely tea with a friend after working out, but all that loveliness is now washed away with my mind racing about all the work I have to do in my basement to make it right. And I still have to fix the shingles in the back, the pipes leading to the bathroom, and get the sewer line fixed. How am I supposed to do all this stuff when I'm supposed to go back to Honolulu?
My dad sounds like he's not doing well, physically or mentally. He's so out of it when I call now and his tales of various physical woes and spiritual indignities make me sad and worried. My mom is so forgetful and ditzy that I wonder if she is helpful to him at all. My sister is in Maui at her swanky condo which is great, but she's also still not super well.
And then there's me.... eating stuff I shouldn't eat because it makes my body unhappy, eating too much because it makes me happy in the moment, not getting enough sleep, not getting enough exercise, and trying to please everyone. I feel like I'm heading for a nervous breakdown or the fat farm since I continue to flail at stopping my emotional eating. I pretend I'm eating ok and then get mad when I look at the scale or wear my clothes or feel shitty. I'm acting out like some horrible pre-teen who's been told "no" or has to do something they don't like doing. If my proclivities were towards drugs or alcohol I would probably be high or drunk all the time. Maybe I need to start taking meds, but I'm afraid of the ones the doctor gave me. The alprazolam helps, but not enough. I might take an ambien tonight to help me sleep but I worry I'm getting used to taking it again and I also worry I won't wake up in time for my 7:30 meeting. Ugh, a 7:30 meeting. And then meetings all day long and a team dinner at night so I won't get to work out again.
Other tiny stresses: I left my bathing suit at the pool Sunday and I'm afraid I won't get it back - it's brand new, too. My workout shorts and shirt didn't fit today - they used to be baggy. My lunch had tons of cilantro in it so it mad me add so I ate the chips that might have been cooked in corn oil and then proceeded to eat the trail mix with chocolate chips that probably have corn in them and then tonight ate the rice crispy dessert bar with PB and chocolate that no doubt had corn in it. See how much I suck right now? I just don't know how to channel my stress well enough. I guess I could sleep more. I should sleep more. So I guess I'll go do that now. Good night.
P.S. Why doesn't writing make me feel better?
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