I have to make it through the day without getting pissy at any customers or the one jackass that sits a couple of cubes away from me. Seriously, I am not the only one who is sick of him. If I were staying, I might actually file a complaint, because while there are lines that I sometimes cross, it’s done with good humor and everyone knows I will lay off if they ask. HE, however, interjects himself where no one wants him and is just….rude. Loud. And crass in the bad way. I mean, when someone else’s swearing is enough to bother ME, that says something.
Just finished my shift. Going to go nap now. Did 82 texts today, leaving the no-rota system up, it will be easy to increase my stats, and I have several hours booked between now and EOM, so that will be at least SOME income in January after I get to Phoenix. Gotta hit the sweet spot for payout, of course. Gonna take a bit of work to do that, but I think I can!
Someone throws you off guard today as a hidden conflict is suddenly brought out into the open. Perhaps you believed that the issues were already resolved, but now you can see that they were only swept under the rug. Don’t try to sidestep what is right in front of you, even if it feels as if the confrontation will be unpleasant. It’s very likely to be much worse if you avoid the obvious.
With my 100+ pounds lost over the past year,fitness should have been a larger priority for me.
Honestly, I wish that in addition to my diet, I had actually spent more time setting up a workout plan. I realized yesterday that even with my improved flexibility, etc., I’m nowhere near where I want to be. And that does not make me happy. I should be able to easily touch my toes. I should be able to do situps. Etc.
So fitness has to be a priority in the New Year. I’ve set up my own personal goals, but the biggest one is NO EXCUSES. I need to incorporate flexibility, aerobic training AND strength training. But no matter what my plans, they don’t do me much good if I am not actually following my plan.I know it can’t help with the loose skin issues, but at least what’s under all the flap and flop will be firm and toned.
With daily workouts, based on a combination of strength training, treadmill, yoga, and belly dancing, I should be able to make my body a much better one, I should think. Even though it doesn’t give me a concentration on any one skill, it will be well-rounded enough to avoid any boredom.
Although, apparently my procrastination muscles are all in fine shape.
I went to bed early because I have a six am shift (and am about to go back to bed), falling asleep right about 20 minutes before “the boy” called. First words out of his mouth were that he was on HIS way to bed (he didn’t sound too good and I noticed that he wasn’t on Sludge after he got off work tonight, which is odd). Mainly he was just telling me when my presents would arrive. OOPS.
But I had a very bizarre dream. In this dream, I was the age I am now, but a senior in high school and living with my grandmother (who died when I was in junior high!) Anyway, apparently I was hanging out with Stacey Blades AND Tracii Guns, and was skiving off night school to make them a turkey dinner. And even though it was Stacey, he looked just like Mark Simpson. WEIRD.
Ok, folks, here’s the scoop:
My email addresses are ALSO changing, and I’ll be sending out a reminder email in the next few days
I checked Pay Per Post out of habit today, and noticed they have a new affiliate program. I won’t hassle my friends to sign up under my affiliate link, although, of course, I can always use more blog money. Fact is, blogging for dollars ISN’T for everyone. For the people who want only to try to figure out their own emotions, something that is calculated and commercial may not be the right choice. On the other hand, my friends who HAVE signed up for the program are enjoying the steady dribble of income, and it can add up fairly quickly. It’s sort of like with my WLS–I can only share MY experience, I don’t try to talk others into making the choices that were right for me!
I’ve decided to retire “Polexxia”. And all of my “Marie Braden” names. Mainly because, hey, it is NOT inconceivable that I could marry again….and I am ready to start over with something fresh and new. It’s also, no lie, a great way to despam the email account that I’ve used for nearly ten years at this point! Yes, I know this will sacrifice SOME levels of PR. And it isn’t happening overnight. But it is TIME for this to happen.
So, these are the steps I’m following:
- Closing out as many as possible “polexxia” accounts and creating accounts in the new handle.
- Registering the new domain and setting it up
- Letting everyone know that the mariebraden email addy and the polexxia identities are bye-bye
- Canceling the polexxia and mariebraden domains.
So, for texting (which, honestly, I HATE), I’m setting myself a goal of 5000 texts per month. Interestingly, I’m being solicited by a company that pays .09 per text. Which, in American, is almost .19 per text. Damn, that’s tempting if they want me and if they have any kinda traffic. Last month, in 45 hours of work, I did 2893 texts. And I took most of the month off. Unfortunately, I have NOT been taking advantage of the non-rota system we have now. I should. I need to. But I hate this job so bad.
Either way, 5000 texts a month is an additional 500 or so dollars. I need, really NEED to get moving on writing again. Writing FOR PAY, mind you. But if I could make $500 a month texting (We’ll assume that’s 80 hours, so 20 hours per week) and another $250 with Pay Per Post (two posts daily at $4 or more each–which take about 20 minutes each to write–so let’s say 5 hours a week), that would be $750 for 100 hours a month. Not exactly a living wage, but helpful.
I just hate texting so bad. It HURTS that I am good at it. And dreading doing it makes it hard for me to focus on things like the Thirty Day Challenge or on writing PPP posts. Don’t even get me started about how it’s keeping me from searching for a job in LA or how it makes me wanna leave the day job early.
I have to get, and stay, organized. Only with a plan can I succeed, since procrastination is my middle name. Hell, my first and last, too. It seems (though I could be wrong) that if I get into a schedule, it won’t kill me so bad to do the slutting.
The deeper ones are on the inside, of course.
But here I sit, naked, and staring at myself in a new light. I weighed today, and realized that even after a couple months of “eating badly”, I’m still stabilized at 119 lbs. Portion control, I guess. I have a SLIGHT amount of loose skin on my arms, but not really the lunchlady look. My stomach, though, is where I am still pretty displeased. I know I will need the tummy tuck, but until then, I still have what, to me, feels like fat. Of course, I can see the skin rippling and buckling around it, so I know it isn’t just fat, but it is frustrating.
My chest–I’ve always had the stretch marks along the side, and sagged, but now, there’s so little filling the skin that I hate my tits. Which I always considered my best feature. The markings on my stomach from the laparoscopic surgery aren’t that bad. “the boy” was right about how that would be. Oddly, I can now SEE the scar in my navel from my tubal.
But the real scars, as I stated, aren’t the physical ones. When talking to Rachel, she said, “He needs to move soon, or he’ll lose you.” What she doesn’t realize is that I don’t WANT anyone but him. In fact, getting “that sort” of attention from guys terrifies me. Which may explain why falling in love with him was so easy for me.
My thighs were never an issue, but I can see the skin there. My butt? Well, there’s a little skin there, but it doesn’t seem as flat as it always was, so I guess that’s a plus. I don’t know, I don’t want anyone to see me naked but him, anyway. And I remember how afraid of THAT I was when we first hooked up. After all, I wasn’t exactly CUTE outside of my clothes. Still not, to be honest.
And the veins. I feel like I’ve aged myself, because I have prominent veins all over. Sometimes I wish I could make my entire body melt away inside this skin. And that’s when I get into dangerous mental territory.