honchos, love, Uncategorized, zen shit

Full disclosure: zen girl has an MMD (mini melt down)

Lately every time I post here it seems I see skies of blue, clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night … And I think to myself, what a wonderful world (insert lame white girl imitation of Louie.)

But omission, dear readers, is the most common form of deception. Is it not?

So in the interest of shedding some more light on the tao of Col, I’m gonna let some of my junk hang out of the trunk. (BTW, to anyone with whom I’ve been discussing Narcissism, behold my stunning hypocrisy.)

Two days back in the office and everything unraveled. I made a bad call in going to London right before a busy time. I loved every single thing about the trip, and came back with excellent emotional and intellectual clarity. But I was also jet lagged, groggy, and off balance with diet and exercise.

It’s just a few short weeks before the marathon. And work was and is busy. Not Gitmo-proportions busy, but it’s getting there with earnings rapidly approaching. In the future I am going to remember that, being a slave to routine, I take a while to get back to pique performance once I leave my daily rituals. It’s unrealistic to make a trip like that and expect to come back in prime working shape.

To top it off, I packed my week with way too many activities, social and otherwise. And as fun and awesome as it all turned out to be, I still bitched about it to anyone who would listen (la spillah and LOST get gold stars for suffering my rants). Poor me — too many fun things to do with too many fabulous friends.

I need space and reflection time and when I don’t get it, I become cranky and spastic. Sometimes I worry that I won’t be able to adjust to future cohabitation or parenthood. But most of the time I know it will be okay as long as I learn to be more flexible and let go of the reins every now and again. Alanon 101: we cannot control eachother. We’ve got to live and let live.

Along those lines of opening up, sharing my space and time … I’ve alluded to the boyage I’ve got going of late. Boyage, as in multiple boys (thanks Kate, for coining that!). It’s a welcome change. But not welcome 100% of the time. My precious ego is getting one hell of a workout.

And my hormones are doing absolutely nothing to help the situation, I tell you. Nor are my friggin’ allergies. ACHOOOO!! Sniffle, snuffle (went the sniveling, snarling, bleary-eyed blogista).

I want to be more spontaneous in my life. But there’s a way of doing it gradually, so as not to give yourself an MMD. No?

Well, enough of blowing my own horn … time to go blow my red, swollen honker.

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