Forgetting the point

I haven't done a workout since Thursday. I had every intention to do a quick 10-15 minute metabolic workout Friday evening, but time got away from me and I headed straight out for Mexican and margaritas instead. I ended up out until 2am. The next day I didn't feel anything close to a normal human being. I spent the entire afternoon at my baby sister's play (which was wonderful, but verrrry long... Pride & Prejudice tends to be that way, I suppose), then headed straight to the grocery story, and shortly thereafter out again to my good friend's 30th birthday party. I didn't come home until 2am. Again. Only Sunday I had to get up at 7am with the kids. Definitely didn't feel like a normal person that day. Not only that, but all day my stomach was all wonky and weird. I couldn't tell if I was nauseated or about to poop my pants. (Sorry for the TMI.) I felt a little better this morning after a good night's sleep, but when I came home from work my tummy got all wonky again. I think I may have pushed it with going straight for some spicy stir-fry for dinner vs sticking with something more bland and easy. Oops.

Needless to say, there was no workout happening tonight. For the last weeks or so I've felt a little more up emotionally, but a weekend of junk food, alcohol, and lack of sleep quickly had me nosediving back down into downsville. It was all I could do to make myself bathe this evening, let alone put in 45 minutes of strength training.

I had an attack of "Get Your Priorities Straight" this afternoon and began beating myself up over a) not getting any purposeful exercise in over the weekend, and b) completely throwing myself off my normal sleep schedule when I know how important that is for maintaining my mood. I wish I could say it was because I was just having SO MUCH FUN I couldn't POSSIBLY SLEEP!! But really it was just because I was a little drunk and not making very good decisions for myself.

...that is not to say I didn't enjoy spending time with my friends this weekend - I did. But it wasn't anything that required my being awake until the wee hours of the morning, and I couldn't have gone home to bed at midnight and still had equally as awesome of a time.

I also smoked two cigarettes this weekend. I was/am really disappointed in myself, but I also need to realize that this doesn't mean I can't move forward and continue not being a smoker. I can and I have. I didn't go buy a pack of cigarettes. In fact, it didn't even occur to me that I could do that until I just wrote that. But I don't want to be a smoker again. I'm pretty solid in that feeling and decision. It's okay. There will be hiccups, and I can allow myself this slip-up and move forward realizing that it didn't make me feel good physically or emotionally and remember that the next time I think it might be a good idea to light a cigarette.

I had a moment earlier this evening where I thought, "I may as well just give up this #365daysofchange thing -- clearly a year is too long and I can't keep it up. I had a good run with #100daysofchange and I should have just left it at that." But that's just silly. I had a weekend of poor choices. It happens. I forgot the point of the whole idea; the point is to learn how to be a happier, healthier human being within my normal everyday life. Normal everyday life includes poor choices sometimes! But those few days of poor decisions and choices does not define the last 119 days, nor does it have to define the next 246.

I guess I still haven't quite figured out this whole "grown-up" thing yet. I guess I do still have some priorities to get straight... and if I'm going to be really honest with myself (and you), this was all probably a bit of a subconscious response to my husband telling me last Wednesday morning that if our youngest was going to decide to get up at 5:30am everyday (which he had been doing for 5 days in a row since switching from a crib to a toddler bed), then it was probably time to start sacrificing some things to be able to go to bed early enough in order to wake up rested at 5:30am with him. I flat out pitched a bit of a fit and was like, "You realize that would mean I would have to go to bed at like 9:30pm EVERY NIGHT and give up EVERYTHING I ENJOY DOING?!"

This, of course, did not go over particularly well. We didn't fight about it, but only because I decided to just end the conversation. I was pissed and felt like it was all incredibly "unfair". So what did I do? Well, go out all night all weekend, of course! Because that's how mature adults handle things!

...so, yeah. I didn't even realized that until I was writing all of this out. That was pretty stupid, considering I've been perfectly happy and fine coming home around midnight at the latest whenever I've gone out recently. And you know what? Nolan decided he'd start sleeping until a normal time again yesterday. It was just a normal adjustment for him and it looks like we'll be okay moving forward. Looks like I don't have to learn how to be a super early morning person just yet and can spend some of that extra time in the evenings thinking about what I want my top priorities to be in order to feel happy and satisfied in life.