I've been working on eliminating one of my most vexing and counter-intuitive traits. When I've had a lousy day or week, I do something senselessly self-destructive. I eat like shit or don't bathe properly or don't do the things I enjoy or spend too much money.
Last week was almost wholly bad, so I spent today not being self-destructive. I spent today living.
I woke up and promptly went back to sleep. After I finally got up, I showered and scrubbed myself head to toe. I never feel better than when I'm perfectly groomed.
Afterward, I donned an old pair of jeans, a new organic cotton t-shirt, my ancient flip flops, and the ridiculously rock-star Prada sunglasses. I walked to one of my favorite breakfast spots and ordered a vegetarian egg-white omelet. I was seated near a window in the old converted farmhouse and could watch the city starting to get moving. It was a moment of almost pure Zen.
About lunchtime, I caught a matinee of Next. It wasn't a transformative movie, and there were plot holes big enough to drive trucks through. It was still a fun way to spend a couple hours.
The sun was still shining and the day brisk when I left the theater. I grabbed my Reader and wandered to a nearby park to lie in the sun and read. On the way there, I picked up some apples to snack on.
There's something so decadent and perfect to lying outside in the sun, eating fresh fruit, and reading. To me, it's almost pornographic.
I came home and cooked dinner. I made salad with butter leaf and romaine lettuce, sugar snap peas, carrots, and red cabbage. I topped that with some exemplary blue cheese and bacon dressing. I whipped up a quick Caesar twice-baked potato and pan-seared a dry-aged ribeye in fresh butter. I was short of grey salt for the meat but the black salt did me nearly as well.
I watched Anthony Bourdain: No Reservation filmed in the Pacific Northwest while I ate my dessert of fresh Madagascar vanilla bean ice cream. I cried a little as he waxed poetic about Salumi in Pioneer Square.
Now, I'm drinking a bottle of a Japanese sports drink that I took a cotton to years ago, Pocari Sweat. I'm listening to Tom Petty. I'm writing a little.
And I've decided that this is much better than being self-destructive. Throughout the day, I felt happy and at peace. All the walking felt great. My huge body started to move like I expect it to. I felt tall and strong and straight of limb in a way that I love.
Here's to life.
Last week was almost wholly bad, so I spent today not being self-destructive. I spent today living.
I woke up and promptly went back to sleep. After I finally got up, I showered and scrubbed myself head to toe. I never feel better than when I'm perfectly groomed.
Afterward, I donned an old pair of jeans, a new organic cotton t-shirt, my ancient flip flops, and the ridiculously rock-star Prada sunglasses. I walked to one of my favorite breakfast spots and ordered a vegetarian egg-white omelet. I was seated near a window in the old converted farmhouse and could watch the city starting to get moving. It was a moment of almost pure Zen.
About lunchtime, I caught a matinee of Next. It wasn't a transformative movie, and there were plot holes big enough to drive trucks through. It was still a fun way to spend a couple hours.
The sun was still shining and the day brisk when I left the theater. I grabbed my Reader and wandered to a nearby park to lie in the sun and read. On the way there, I picked up some apples to snack on.
There's something so decadent and perfect to lying outside in the sun, eating fresh fruit, and reading. To me, it's almost pornographic.
I came home and cooked dinner. I made salad with butter leaf and romaine lettuce, sugar snap peas, carrots, and red cabbage. I topped that with some exemplary blue cheese and bacon dressing. I whipped up a quick Caesar twice-baked potato and pan-seared a dry-aged ribeye in fresh butter. I was short of grey salt for the meat but the black salt did me nearly as well.
I watched Anthony Bourdain: No Reservation filmed in the Pacific Northwest while I ate my dessert of fresh Madagascar vanilla bean ice cream. I cried a little as he waxed poetic about Salumi in Pioneer Square.
Now, I'm drinking a bottle of a Japanese sports drink that I took a cotton to years ago, Pocari Sweat. I'm listening to Tom Petty. I'm writing a little.
And I've decided that this is much better than being self-destructive. Throughout the day, I felt happy and at peace. All the walking felt great. My huge body started to move like I expect it to. I felt tall and strong and straight of limb in a way that I love.
Here's to life.