frazzled & frumpy

I started working out a few weeks ago.  My friend asked for a workout buddy and I jumped up and down, yelling, "Pick me! Pick me!"  We meet at the gym at 6am. After some cardio, Brigette puts me through a strength training session that leaves me groaning and sweaty. I've noticed a difference.  I have more energy, and my clothes are loose. Just yesterday, the Handy Man commented on my bicep, which I flexed for him.  He pronounced that my muscles are bigger than his. It's not true. He carries around huge cabinets and sheets of wood on a daily basis. He has nice muscles. Mine are puny, but getting bigger. Ever since I 'finished' my book, I've taken a bit of a leave of absence. My writing muscle has turned to mush.  I feel all squishy and soft. My mind is jumbled and I find myself avoiding the computer. I have no writing energy and I'm overindulging in junk thoughts. I need to write. Often. I am looking for inspiration. Something to spark my imaginat...

Reasons.  I've been pondering my reasons for things--priorities and motivation in my life. The reason I blog. I had someone question what I do. That's okay, everyone is entitled to their opinion.  It doesn't change my reasons.  (Sticks and stones, and all that.)  I started this blog for two reasons.  One was that I thought I would become famous and more importantly, rich. Funny, huh?  I do have advertising on here, thanks to the wonderful BlogHer community. The money I've earned from that wouldn't fill my car with gas, not even one time. That's all right. I've put that idea aside.  The fact is, the second reason for this blog has become the main reason-- to write. I'm  a writer. It took me a long time to be able to say that.  I felt like I needed some kind of publishing contract to give myself that label.  Not so.  I've been a writer my whole life.  It's always been a part of me.  It is one of the things that makes m...

This is our elliptical. We bought him last year in a fit of fitness rage.  I was determined that having him here in our house would spur me on to greater things, and a lesser body. Recently I told my family that Daniel is lonely. (I hadn't actually named him before this.  Daniel was the first name that came to mind.)  I told them that we all need to spend more time with him. His self-esteem is surely suffering.  He has a purpose and we aren't allowing him to fulfill it.  He's just standing there waiting for us to pay him a little attention.  He's patient, and a bit dusty. My daughter, Sadie, has taken him under her wing.  She's been spending quality time with him every day.  She watches Netflix on her phone while she sweats away.  Never interested in being a cheerleader at school, she's become our own personal pep squad.  "Rah, Rah, get your butt off the couch!" I'm the worst offender.  Poor Daniel must feel so unloved as I p...