Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Remebering I'm not Stupid

So I just got seriously talked to by Howard about my eating habits. "You don't remember the things you don't want to. You have no excuses, I know you're not stupid."

He’s right.

And I really need to find a way to stop myself from crying. Not that I did, but in the middle of his speech I think I was about to.

He’s right. It’s true I forget things and I feel stupid about it- but I don’t forget the things I care about. If my brain deems it uncomfortable, disturbing, or not worth the time of day, I’ll forget. Of course, into that black hole will sometimes slip things that I love, and the more I forget, the more good stuff leaves me. But he’s right. I’m also not stupid. I could make the time to get up in the morning and make an egg. It’s probably cheaper than the bagel everyday anyway.

I have the time, just not the discipline. Which I‘ve always loathed about myself. I think most people hate weakness in themselves but it’s always been a particular weak spot with me. If you’re new to this blog, please read the entry on marketing myself. Where was I going with this?

Ah, the only thing I hate worse than LOOKING bad is BEING bad. I was always afraid of my mother’s punishment as a kid if I didn’t do something right. So for the most part if I did something, I wouldn’t show her. Or anyone, if it wasn’t ready. And I’d slave over things until it was ready for presentation. I shouldn’t blame my vicious mother though.

So how do I make myself want to do things that are good for me? Stuff that is hard that I don’t like? Even something as simple as getting up a little earlier to make breakfast, or eating dinner (no matter what it is) as soon as I get home?

Sigh. A husband is not a regulator. A boyfriend is not an alarm clock. A friend is not discipline.

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