New beginnings kinda suck.

Yeah, I said it. I always try to be honest here and honestly, I’ve decided I just don’t like starting new things. [pauses for gasps from the crowd] There are quotes all over the place that talk about being fearless and embracing change…that new paths and open doors lead to magic and adventure. But in reality, sometimes change is just that. Change. You just wake up one day and decide to do things differently. It’s hard, it sucks, there’s no instant gratification, and occasionally you fail. I mean, who isn’t more comfortable just staying where they are, just chuggin’ along? Just me?

However much I may like the feeling of contentment, it’s something I rarely (if ever) get to enjoy. It’s become more and more apparent to me that life is just a series of beginnings and endings, with very few constants along the way. While that may not necessarily be a negative thing, it’s freaking hard sometimes, no?

On Monday I’ll start my new job.

Let me preface this point by saying that theoretically I’m super pumped about this opportunity. I’m proud of myself for reaching my goal of becoming a Practice Administrator in a medical office (and before 30, no less), and being able to professionally transition from one job to another while keeping many personal and professional relationships intact. Woo adulting!

But…along with anticipation and excitement, the incoming tide of emotions like anxiety (you constant bitch), fear, nervousness, and the need for approval are incessantly trying to take over. It’s been a non-stop battle in my mind this weekend- excited, then wanting to throw up, happy and proud, immediately followed by indecision and worry, smiling and feeling optimistic, then biting my lip and scared I’ll make a fool of myself next week.

I know, I know, I’ll be fine. I’ll do great and it will be amazing and I’ll love it and everyone will love me because I’m beautiful and awesome and hilarious and it will all be okay. Whew.

Oh, right. Hey reality- you’re still here? Damn it. I’m still scared.

Luckily, I never had to change schools as a kid. I spent my first 18 years of life in a tiny backwoods country town and knew, or at least knew of, pretty much everyone in my school. Even though I never had to experience the feeling of being the new kid, just the thought of it makes my stomach flip. I’d watch movies or TV where they walk into the crowded cafeteria and can’t find a place to sit so instead they choose to eat their lunch in a bathroom stall and I’d always think, “yep, that’d be me”. Not because they, nor I, are particularly weird, it’s just easier.  Is it weird that I’m already dreading lunch tomorrow? Honestly, I’ll probably end up eating in the car. Normal people don’t worry about this stuff, do they?

I’m on a mission to eat healthier.

I figured hey, since I’m changing my daily routine with a new job, different (improved) commute, and daily dog walking schedule…why not throw in another challenge and stop eating so much crap? Habits are so hard to break. But, I’m hoping my theory of starting this new routine will be easier if I automatically start doing it with all the others.

First, I’m going to keep up the no soda rule. It’s been 6 weeks and 3 days since my last soda and I hope I never go back. While it may be getting slightly easier,  I still crave an ice cold Diet Coke almost every day. Instead, I give my water bottle the middle finger, take a giant gulp, and let out an exaggerated “ahh” to try and trick myself that it’s just as gratifying. God, it’s really not.

Second, I’m cutting way back on the fast food. Matt and I really only had Chick-fil-a or Whataburger what, maybe twice a week, if that? Realistically, I’m always going to allow myself to indulge in a chicken sandwich and waffle fries occasionally. It’s just too delicious. And what’s the point in living if you’re so freakin’ miserable all the time eating  like a bird and drinking grass water?

While I may not be able to entirely sacrifice the fries and rare nugget adventure, we are focusing on eating at home and eating real food. It’s a time commitment, that’s for sure, and it takes a lot more work, but I’m hoping once we get used to it it will become easier and less of a struggle. Right now my main issue is not reverting to a 3-year-old and throwing a mini-fit every time I have to do the dishes.

 

All in all, while I may hate the idea of starting these new things; whether it be a new job, better eating choices, or drinking another unending bottle of water- they’re all worth doing. Ultimately I know it will lead to a better and happier life.

Well, at least that’s the goal, right? I’ll keep you posted.

Inspiration

This weekend, I had a friend tell me something I’ve never heard before. Maybe people have told me this before, but I doubt it. And, if they actually did, I wasn’t even open to the possibility that they could be telling the truth. You know what she told me?

“You’re an inspiration to me.”

I think I coughed on my Wingstop we were eating at the time. (What can I say? We’re classy women…) I laughed it off and said, “yeah thanks…I inspire you what not to do…?” She reassured me that she didn’t hit her head in the bathroom or add any hidden liquor in her Coke, and in fact, she really meant it.

Please understand, I am trying to do anything but pat myself on the back. In fact, I’m writing this all out to see if it makes sense to anyone else…do we need to have an intervention for my crazy-minded gal? I mean, she seems mostly sane, I think.

Part of the reason it baffled me was that this chick is freaking amazing. She’s a rockin’ nurse, who actually prefers trauma or ICU departments AND works the night shifts. Okay, maybe I’m not helping her sane factor, but I’m telling you, I could not figure out why she would consider a hot mess friend like me someone to look up to. She has an awesome, hilarious husband who is in residency and they make basically a picture-perfect couple. Their relationship is movie-quality romantic, goofy, strong, messy at times, and real. I love being able to participate in their lives.

Our friendship was obsessively close in college. We had the same job for a while (as terrible as it was), we spent countless hours at each other’s places, we planned our weddings together, we talked about our torn-up pasts and our picture-perfect dreams. We wasted afternoons at coffee shops “studying”, and were always trying the latest baking recipe for the rest of our college group. That friendship was seriously what got me through college, I think. Cut to Graduation Day: emotions were tense and we were probably both avoiding our feelings of being separated, but long story short…the friendship was basically cut off (mutually) and put on hold. Fast forward 4 years, and that same amazing woman I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see again reached out to me through all the awkwardness and unanswered questions, and invited me over the very first night they moved to Dallas. Talk about not wasting any time! So, I drove the now familiar roads and found myself almost instantly the best of friends with her again. We laughed, cried, hugged, sweated (we were moving her into her house, okay?), and it was like we never spent a day apart. It was such a good feeling.

So, after catching her up on ALL of my drama, heartache, life choices, new dreams, and goals I now realize I was basically admitting that my life has been a complete mess while we were apart, and  I couldn’t believe she didn’t run away and never look back? Yep. She’s crazy.

Well, I love her crazy. She says that I seem like a different person, a better version of me. Happier, more fulfilled, and enjoying life more. While I totally agree that I am those things…sometimes I feel like it’s all being held together by a thin thread and I don’t want anyone to look up to me for fear of it just coming unglued and falling apart. Oh well, I know she’ll be there to use some Crazy Glue and put me back together. (See what I did there… she’d use Crazy Glue…because I think she’s, oh you got it? Okay.)

The best part is…she hasn’t even started reading this blog yet and she has no idea that I’m telling the world she’s MY inspiration. So, I win. Friend, if you ever do read this post…please don’t punch me the next time you see me. Remember, I know all of the dumb things we’ve done and I won’t hesitate to post about them.

If any others out there consider myself resembling anything close to an inspiration for you…I’m honored. But you may want to get your noggin checked, just saying.

If everything is clear on the scans, and you’re not admitted to a mental hospital, then maybe, just maybe, I’m doing something right.