I am not a prolific writer, unless you count the blogging I do in my brain. My house is littered with half full diaries, their contents full of sporadic entries spanning years. They are lost, forgotten, replaced, and rediscovered. I am a phoenix of procrastination.
The same is largely true with my blogs. I think this might be my seventh blog in fifteen years. My first blog was awful. I was in middle school, blogs had just been born in a user friendly format, and I was depressed and largely misunderstood by my peers. So I blogged. Prolifically. Painfully. God it was awful.
Since then, I've attempted to capture my inner genius several times. I'm seriously a funny person, my friends tell me. So I think "Hey man, I know words and shit. Let's get this blogging party started." And then something else comes along and I, predictably as it seems to be with my generation, get distracted and move on to something else.
BUT NO MORE. THE PROVERBIAL BUCK STOPS HERE. I AM FUNNY, DENIZENS OF THE INTERNET.
And more importantly, I guess, is that I have a purpose now. Not only do I need A Hobby to keep myself from being bored and keep on task with school, I have school. And not just any school, no. I have gone Back To School, as it seems that many people are doing.
I'm going to school now to become an allied health professional who is not a nurse. Respect to the nurses out there, but I would not be able to do your job with any amount of joy, let alone sanity. What I've realized, as a too-close-to-thirty-something, is that many of us going into this general field are not healthy ourselves. We're expected to be able to motivate our patients to stop smoking, lose the weight, eat less bacon, to stop being abusive to ourselves. Then I come out of my medical terminology class to see my classmates lighting up, getting hotdogs (delicious, delicious hotdogs), being unable to sit in regular (admittedly tiny and annoying) desks. We're supposed to be better than this. We're supposed to know better. The worst part of it is that we do, but we're fragile human beings at the whim of our own vices and temptations.
Well, personally, I'm kind of over it. Thankfully I'm not a smoker, and I've successfully passed my drug test to the surprise of no one. But man, food. I love food. That's not to say that I live exclusively off of McDonald's and donuts, but I love food. I love ramen, bul go gi, tacos, froyo, you freaking name it and I will probably like it. I don't think that my core issue is quality, but it is definitely quantity.
So what is this blog? I don't know yet. I do know that I should lose around 100 lbs (about 45 kg, to the rest of the world that doesn't fear change). I do know that I'm in the first semester of a two year program. I know that last year (this ain't my first rodeo, kids), I lost about 25 lbs in three months, largely due to exercise and fanatical calorie counting (myfitnesspal.com, people). So I know my methodology, and I know that I can probably maybe due this if I eat...less...ramen...ugh. God I love ramen.
But first I have to go grocery shopping for my pizza and bundt cake filled birthday party tomorrow.
I know. Great timing for an inspirational blog post.
Toodles.
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