Guest Blogger: Love Notes from the Fickle Monster, Part 12

Today, I ate a scone and a piece of cake, chocolate cake with whipped frosting....and they were good. So stinkin' good. Oh mercy. If or when I eat like this, I quickly follow the event with a little trip to the whipping post. "Hey CORA, You're so fat...blagh blagh blagh....you'll never reach your goals....blagh blagh blagh.....you're gonna break the stairmaster...blagh." I say really sweet things, things that make me want to be better and kinder and lovelier. I stand in the stocks, head lowered in shame, and wait for someone to stop by and joint in the tormenting, but nobody ever does.

In addition to saying mean things, I also like to argue with myself about going to the gym. After my excursion in the blessed Land of Carbohydrates and Joy today, I walked to my car and saw the wretched yellow duffle which carries my gym attire and an ounce of truth. I wish I could write exactly what went through my mind during the five minute drive to the gym, but I am simply going to have to write from memory. Pretend you're watching a movie or reading something interesting.

(Cora walks to car, sees bag, frowns.)

Cora's Mind: UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, gym. Wait! You don't have to go; you can just go home and run.

(Cora smiles.)

Cora's Mind: Whatever. If you go home, you'll sit in that stupid chair and eat your weight in Fiber One Raisin Bran.

(Cora frowns.)

Cora's Mind: Just get in your car, smile at that student who is waving at you, pretend you're happy, and go. You can decide on the way. That is reasonable right?

(Cora gets in the car, starts it, Jimmy Eat World is singing to her. She's on her way.)

Cora's Mind: Ok, if this light stays green, go home.

(The light turns red.)

Cora's Mind: BOOOOOOOOOOO! You can always turn around. Wait, you aren't turning around. You're tired and in a sugar coma. YOU AREN'T THINKING STRAIGHT. Ok well, if you make through thirty minutes, you can buy yourself something nice, like a Sprite Zero.

(She goes to the gym.)

There was a lot more wasted thought on whether or not to go, but I got tired and bored of writing.

Let's face it: sometimes we need to give ourselves a break. We need to forgive ourselves for eating cake and hating the gym. We need to realize that it is O.K. if we don't feel quite up to it or 110%. Sometimes we aren't at the top of our games, and sometimes we'd rather go home than go big. I think lies should not be allowed to wander, but if they do, forgive. We've all got our own crap going on; so, stand in the stocks for a little while but don't expect someone to come by and throw tomatoes. On the other hand, don't expect someone to come by and let you out. Do it for yourself; let yourself off the hook every once and a while. Just do it. Nike that sucker!

We must keep going. We can't quit, even when we eat cake or want to the elliptical into a deep, deep hole. Throw yourself a little tiny pity party, then put your big girl pants on and keep truckin'.

Today is a little less inspiration and a little more "let me tell you about the fact that I am struggling and sometimes don't care." I am living in the 160's, and I can't quite seem to blast past the hump. Hopefully next week will be a breakthru week, and I'll have something meaty to say when I'm not feeling so meaty.

Until the next time folks, keep on living, keep on breathing, keep on struggling, keep on. I dare you!

**************************************
Cora Ruth Flottman is the best friend, college room8 and a complete inspiration to Sheila.

She is an actress, teacher, christian, lover of the written word and men who can change the tires on a car.

She blogs here almost every Friday.

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