Monday, November 5, 2012

Be Prepared...for flyaways.

Ahhh....a writing challenge.  A chance to get ahead of - or at least, out from behind - the notion that unless something is absolutely perfect then I cannot post it.  I joke around a lot about being rigid, but the truth is, I am far, far better than I used to be.  Case in point: I'm not getting straight A's at Yale!  I work my tail off, yes, and I get grades that I am satisfied with, but I also have a life.  I have a boyfriend I adore, and a house to maintain, and two cats (and a puppy who's technically his, but kinda half mine) to love on, and a half marathon to train for (yes, I will write a post about that soon, I promise).  I also have twelve very intense hours of clinical each week, and put all that together, and if I maintained enough pressure on myself to be getting perfect (or close to perfect) grades, I would be far less happy.  So there's evidence that I am capable of such notions of balance.  But this blog gets me back on that fatefully circling train of this-isn't-perfect-so-why-even-try, that inevitably ends with me slamming my computer shut and walking away.  Hence the writing challenge.  How could it go wrong, I thought?  Easy enough topics, one for each day of November, I can totally do that!  Until I somehow decided in my own head that everything I write has to be meaningful, and eloquent, and poignant, and I don't even know what - certainly better than what I find spilling out onto the screen, more often than not.  The truth is, not everything I write will be great, or even marginally good.  And I need to be okay with that. And if you wonderful people keep reading, then how freaking lucky am I?  So instead of giving up on 30 Days Hath November...I present to you a glut of the past days' posts.  Do I smell Pulitzer???  Loljk...NOPE.  And that's okay.

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Well, I would hope that I never leave the house without keys.  Because getting locked out just plain sucks, I don't care who you are.  Especially in November, in New England.  And my phone, I'm pretty good at bringing my phone (almost) everywhere I go, including on my runs, so that I can geek out over tracking mileage and pace and elevation and stuff.  But in terms of things that I perpetually have, at least 98 out of 100 times I leave the house - those would be my Klean Kanteen, filled with water, and hair ties.  Yawn.  Right??  But seriously, I have nearly turned the car around on more than one occasion if I have forgotten either or both of these crucial items.  The water - well, I drink probably 12-20 cups of water a day, which my body has grown accustomed to, meaning that if I go more than an hour without a few glugs, I start to feel sick.  I get headaches, my throat hurts, my stomach feels weird, and I lose all ability to distinguish between hunger and thirst.  I also then overcompensate when I encounter a water source, and drink half a gallon in five minutes and then feel like a water balloon, if water balloons got cramps and felt sloshy when they breathe.  

And the hair ties - oh my goodness, hair ties.  I should own stock in Goody.  One, because Tucker steals any hair tie that I leave accessible to him, which means I am perpetually either buying more, or trying to find the ones I've hidden from him.  My hair keeps getting longer and longer (hi, my loans do not cover a hair cut) and if I don't have a way of swishing my hair out of my face in class, or when I'm eating or cooking or on my way to the hospital, it totally freaks me out.  Tying my hair up for running has become something of a daily exercise in futility and hilarity.  It's too long and heavy for my standard messy bun.  And anything else tends to fall out about half a mile in, so I wind up piling it on top of my head like some weird athletic version of Cindy Lou Who...basically I just look all of the sexy when I'm tooling around Connecticut these days.  It's a shame you all only know me virtually, right?  Right.

30 Days Hath November
Day 01: A place I'd like to travel.
Day 02: A favourite movie.
Day 03: Something I never leave the house without.

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