Jul 262011

I’m sitting in my living room on this muggy Sunday morning with two skates on my feet, a GoWellFit arm band in place, three black and white animals surrounding me and one seriously messed up house.
I’d love to say that the homefront got into its current state due to some wacky ‘Hangover’ movie situation. The set up is there- skates on my feet, two dogs, a cat and a GoWellFit arm band. The possibilities are nearly endless, but before I begin listing out all the plots and subplots I can think of, I’ll just come right out with it and confess it’s due to equal parts procrastination, wine consumption and deficient (oh, look- a hummingbird!) attention span.
I’ve been going pretty easy on myself for some time now; giving yours truly the kid glove treatment. I mean, I’ve excused my drinking habits more times than {insert tongue-in-cheek, current event comparative here}.

I ‘confront’ my feelings of guilt for being such a slob by mentally offering up valid-sounding reasons why I haven’t accomplished things like dish washing or clothes laundering on a more regular basis. I also log onto the Internet under the pretense of checking my email, only to find myself five, six hours later- geeking out on some off-kilter site like, ‘Perfect Holiday Steam punk cocktail dresses’, ‘Make me Babies’, ‘Craigslist- Free, Barter and Missed Connections’, ‘Damn you Auto Correct’ and ‘Jenna Marbles’.

I also have been losing time, a staggeringly large portion of it. At first it was just a few unnoticeable minutes, a hung-over morning or a do-nothing Sunday afternoon. It gradually snow-balled into having my utilities shut off for unpaid bills, waking up and wondering why it was so hot in December, only to discover- Surprise! It was June. The ‘final warning’ call hit me one night when I Googled my name and discovered I was five years older than I thought (Thanks, MyLife- Find Anyone, Anywhere and invade MyPrivacy™).


I couldn’t believe that so much time had managed to escape me. It pissed me off.
I was angrier though that it hadn’t bothered me before now. See- I had become complacent in being a numb, mindless, emotional wreck. I had no interest in anything. I was pretty much of the mindset that I was taking up air and space until I changed or the world did it for me. I didn’t want friends. I didn’t want excitement. I didn’t want anything except to be left alone. I was not particularly fun to hang out with at parties.
Since the Quad world and I found each other though, time (amongst other things) is starting to matter…a lot. It’s presenting itself at every corner- there’s only about 30 days left before assessments. Five minutes equals a minimum of 26 laps. Two minutes per jam, one minute in the box…

Derby is about time- controlling it, manipulating it- understanding, accommodating and most importantly- Managing it.
There’s not much I think I’ll be able to get credited back to me from all of those previous lost moments. I’d like to think there’s a rebate switch somewhere, but innately I know that Father Time is unforgiving.

Rather than pine for the days I no longer have, I’m going to work on managing my present ones.  Let’s see where it gets me in the days to come.
The following are some of the things I’ve been implementing in order to achieve my goal of ‘Time Wrangling’:
-I’m cutting off the ‘Stay-at-home-Barfly’ persona. If I’m out with pals, a drink or two may pass my lips. I may share some wine with a friend while watching a movie or dishing out chit chat. But the ‘unwind-from-work/exercise/phone call/It’s-after-5’ uncorking of the bottle regime has officially ceased as of this week (not counting last Friday, though. Friday was the Bon Voyage party after the first dry work week).
-As for the (what was I going to write?) attention (Yum- Sesame Oat Bran Sticks!) span of a (stupid flies, where’s the flyswatter) fly- I’ve already taken corrective measures. Previously, I’ve wasted years on frustrated visits to counselors, doctors and the occasional shrink or two. I listened to them tell me about my Depression that I didn’t have, Bi-polar symptoms that I didn’t exhibit and most recently- the PTSD that I didn’t want. I tried their solutions and when they didn’t work, I tried their other solutions until I found the right solution of looking elsewhere. After a seriously long trek, I have finally found a doctor whom I trust, admire and respect (VERY important lesson. I’ll be writing about that one very soon).

I’m currently on month three of associating myself with three letters that sum up my past couple of decades. It might sound crazy, but I’m all right with the association, it fits me: Wacky, tangent-transitioning, short attention-spanned me.
-I finally set up the calorie/activity/sleep/step tracker that my training coach has graciously let me borrow. I have to admit, I don’t much understand it right now. I do know that it’s going to help me remember to do things like walk the dogs (daily ‘steps taken’ goal currently at 10,000- 8900 more to go!), build cardio and muscle (30-60 minutes of activity should do it) and eat regularly- things I sometimes struggle at accomplishing and/or remembering.
Most important of all- I am over and done with being a wuss on roller skates that constantly has to stop to adjust her laces. I no longer want to hear myself utter excuses about how my feet are going numb, or how I couldn’t go fast enough because my foot cramped up, or how my new skates have rubbed my Achilles tendon into Tartar steak. I’m no longer giving the upper hand to the victim image I’ve seen myself as since well, since I lost track of time.

If I’m ever going to successfully block a jammer, take a hit or murder 25 laps in under 5 minutes, I need to kick that former self-perception of mine in the ass.
This morning, I avoided the beautiful Internet distractions and instead looked up causes and solutions for my ankle discomfort and foot pain. I changed out insoles, inserted some heel cups, loosened my right plate about a turn and I MacGyver’d a protective bandage for my Achilles sore out of large waterproof Band Aid’s and mattress stuffing.

I laced up my skates and I have not taken them off for the past four hours.

I’ve toe-stop stepped over to the washing machine with my dirty laundry in hand(s). I’ve been learning that dog bones can create a similar situation as wheel locking, so I’ve been picking up my feet to unlock my bones-er, wheels. That’s been taking me into stepping and when I feel as if I may face plant onto the bookshelf, I’ve been crouching down lower and maintaining balance. Crouching down, aka Derby Stance- has also led me to discover a new appreciation for ‘making water’. That, and tile is slippery.
In a few minutes I’m heading out to get something to eat. It’s not going to be the most nutritious food choice, but there will assuredly be some protein and some calories contained in my culinary decision.
After that, I’m changing out the mattress. Remember when I said I McGyver’d a bandage out of mattress stuffing? Yes, well- there’s more than one reason why I need to take those dogs on more walks.

I may even wash the dish- yeah, no. Still hate doing the dishes.

I’ll clean up house tomorrow.

Author’s Note: House cleaning overhaul did indeed commence on Monday. The dishes have yet to be touched.



  One Response to “Wrinkle in Nomnom’s Time”

  1. This was awesome! Thanks for sharing!

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