Two nights ago I got REALLY ANGRY because I was trying to sleep and my husband was snoring. I had to – get this – walk from my bedroom ALL THE WAY to the couch (where I slept comfortably for eight hours). I huffed and I scowled and I ultimately had to walk 17 feet to find another comfortable bed, in my warm house, in my safe neighborhood, etc, etc. Pretty torturous. Reminds me of last week when I almost cried because I was so hungry after working out and all I really, really wanted a turkey sandwich. The thought consumed me. I could hardly breathe. Beware: all logical perspective sails right out the window when one becomes extremely fatigued or hungry.
Tonight I did 100 push ups. The actual process kind of sucked, but forcing myself through it was a reminder of how fun it is to accomplish new things, if for nothing else than the satisfaction you feel when you achieve them. We get a lot of this feeling when we’re kids because we’re constantly mastering new things like little high-tech learning machines, and we’re acutely aware of our new abilities and skills. As adults, we start to take the learning process for granted and stop noticing our progress. Adults need recognition and confidence boosters too, but perhaps not always through calisthenics.
I have watched every episode of Seinfeld so many times that sometimes when it’s on at night I forget it’s a made-up sitcom and not a real part of my life. I start remembering episodes as my own memories and not works of fiction. While seemingly problematic and INSANE, it’s actually kind of comforting. Like hanging out with old friends where I don’t have to talk and the comfort zone is implied.