Wakey Wakey

I've managed to stay out of the self-pity wallowing that I expected to follow the end of my relationship with my boyfriend. I think. I'm slightly afraid that it's making me seem callous and shallow...or callow...shallus? Hah. Whatever.

Clearly, distracting myself from reality isn't that much of a problem for me.

Anyway, I still haven't actually managed to refer to him as "my ex" more than once when speaking to everyone at work (pretty much everyone knows now). He's always just 'Jon'. I figure that's okay - seven years is a long time. It's pretty much the entirety of my adult life. There's going to be hangups like that - all I can do is accept them and move on. Or, at least, do my best to. Easier said than done, and all that.

It's just...it's a giant bag of dicks, is what it is.

And at the same time...I feel like I've finally come up for air, after being smothered for too long. Or like I'm waking up, after being asleep for ages. Or...any other similie, really, that represents a growing awareness of...freedom. Sun coming out from behind clouds and similar. It's like I've come to the head of a valley and there's all these trails to take and wonderful things down each one and I'll shut up now before I delve into sappiness, but the point is, giant bag of dicks aside, I actually feel alive for the first time in...I don't even know how long.

Going to the gym is helping a lot with this. A lot. I'm feeling good about how I look for the first time in at least three and a half of the last seven years, I'm flexible as all hell again (and can actually get my head to my knee without pre-stretching now, which I haven't been able to do in years), and beginning to re-teach myself basic synchro. Plus, I'm getting a friggin' corset in a couple of months or so. I'm already up to $17 of the $145, and this after a little over a week of gyming it.

That's a new word, that. Gyming. Or gymming. Not sure on the exact spelling, even though I'm the one that invented it, but there you have it. Next I just have to get it into the common lexicon. >:D

Seriously, though, I feel a little guilty about feeling so uplifted and free. And then I also feel guilty about missing the complacency that I'd been living in, of wanting to fall back into old patterns rather than move on and - at the same time - for wanting to move on. It's perverse, really. Backwards.

But I'm not turning into a crazy cat lady. That's for damn certain.

Motivational Motivation

So, I had a brainwave the other day...and no, it didn't hurt. :P

Anyway, I got it into my head that I really, really want this corset, and since I need to save up money for it (and I'm terrible at this), I figured I'd need a sweet plan to do this. So I decided that every time I go to the gym, go swimming, or whatever else (like skating or walking to the Maligne and back), I was going to put $1 in a jar.

The purpose of this is twofold: 1) I save up for a sweet-ass corset that's gorgeous and handmade, and 2) by the time I've saved up enough money for it, I'll be in killer shape.

So far, motivational motivation is working. I've only been at this a few days, and I already have $11 of the $145 ish I need. And as for the money itself...it's money I'd otherwise be spending on junk food.

>:D

Now I just need to motivate myself to start putting away funds for Wales...because I still haven't done that yet, and need a prod in the buttocks as much as I need to slim down said buttocks.

Hahahaha...buttocks.

And, on that note, I'm going to go read the Fitzhugh. Because it's Fitzhugh day. Woot!

Ow.

So my prediction of needing lots of chocolate and distracting things came true, a little earlier than I'd anticipated. I broke up with my boyfriend on Friday.

It's the first time I've ever done this, or gone through the emotions associated with it. I saw it coming a mile off (we haven't been happy together for, probably, about 3.5 of the 7 years we were together), but it still surprised me how much it hurt. I keep having to remind myself that I'm single now, that it's acutally okay for me to look at other men and that it's no longer risque or border-line forbidden to put them in my thoughts rather than him...I think I'll probably have to remind myself of this a lot over the next little while.

The other thing - I've no longer got this...protective barrier, almost, between me and the rest of mankind (and some womankind), because I can no longer truthfully say 'Taken!' when anyone I don't like asks. Or anyone I do like, I suppose...since being 'taken' means I have one of those labels that other people get and understand and so I'd have a point of commonality with the rest of the world. Except that often backfired since people would ask me questions I wouldn't understand the need for, or be able to come up with answers for...so it's a bit of a toss up.

Still. I now find myself facing the idea of living in Alberta alone. Not just without Bean, but alone in the sense that I don't even have the idea of a prospective visit to look forward too. Well, a prospective visit from my friends, which would be awesome, and possibly family, but it's not the same thing...

I shouldn't whinge, though. In a way, I've been asking for this, hoping for it but never really having the strength to carry it out on my own. It's not a good way to think; the resentment builds up. The resentment's all gone, now, since now I'm sort of in that place I go when I don't want to confront my emotions (seems like I'm there a lot), so I'm actually a little numb right now...

I'm also unsure if I should mention my newfound status to anyone at work. It feels like I'm imposing on them. I'm also a little afraid of the I-told-you-so faces that I might incur, though that's silly because no one is going to be making that face at me. I hope, anyway. At the same time, this is one of those things you're supposed to tell your work mates, isn't it? The ones who would care, at any rate...

I dunno. I just dunno. I'm free, but still feel tied down. I haven't the foggiest idea how to go about meeting anyone else - not that I want to meet anyone else. Seven years of a relationship, one that lasted pretty much my entire adult life thus far, and I'm still completely ignorant about some things.

But I'm free. I just have to keep reminding myself of this. Eventually it might sink in.

A Whole New Year...

In which to screw up.

Hee hee...no, not really.

I've decided I'm opening a savings account on Friday, which I really should have done about five weeks ago, but never actually got around to. Consequently, I don't think I'm going to have enough money to go to Vancouver with Bean before she goes. It's just really difficult to save with the first few paycheques at a new job, especially when the starting of that new job cooincides with Christmas and similar.

Anyway, now that it's 2011, it's time to actually start saving shit, since I've only got a few months before my self-imposed date of hauling my ass to Wales, and I really don't want a repeat of the last time I tried (and failed) to save up and go. That would just blow.

Bean's leaving at the end of the month, too. She's already booked her ticket to the UK, which is nice, especially since she'll be getting there on the 14th of Feb.

Something tells me I'm going to need a lot of chocolate at the end of the month. And chick flicks. And movies in which shit blows up a lot. Mindless violence. That sort of thing. Because I'm going to need a hell of a lot of distracting.

January is also editing month, for me. I've started going over The Hollow of White Hazel, looking for and targeting all the bits where it sucks...which is pretty much all of it, but I now have a better idea of where the biggest problem areas are, and how I can fix them, and even a better idea of where the story's going. Which still is, currently, nowhere. But it's a better nowhere than it was. If that made any sense.

I'm not entirely sure that it did. Oh well.

Note To Self:

Never drink tequilla again. EVER.