(20) at least one more lounge day

June Renew: Day 20

Weight: 233.4

My restlessness has reached an all-time high, while my motivation is at an all-time low. I don’t want to do anything but sit around and play video games and nap. There’s nothing else on my agenda besides work. I can’t believe it, but it’s true. I’ve never been so lethargic and I have nothing to attribute it to. It’s certainly not weed. Am I too fat? Too overworked? Can I claim it’s “long covid” and get some sweet, sweet asspats on Twitter? I can do that from the comfort of my couch. It’s a win-win.

I’m just waiting for the next big thing to show up at my doorstep. It’s like I’m ready to move on and step into the next chapter of my life, but I just need the catalyst to motivate me off my ass. I know myself, and I’m not going to do it alone. I’m going to be here, doing whatever it is I’m doing until someone comes along and puts the idea in my head that there’s another way out there. I still think that’s possible, and I think it can happen as long as I’m creating all the good stuff in here. Why do I need to change positions if I’ve already emotionally set things into motion?

I have been feeling more inclined to do some HIIT workouts while I’m at home. There’s always the gym as well. There’re things I could be doing, but it doesn’t necessarily feel like I should be doing them. I’ll find a way to make them happen when I’m ready. There’s nothing I need to process; I’m just taking things one day at a time. We’ll always have a tomorrow. Maybe it’s not my fault if someone doesn’t see one with me on that day. At least I’m easy to find. That’s all.

(19) girth content

June Renew: Day 19

Weight: 234.0

I need to stop ordering delivery. All the food tastes like nightmares to me. I don’t know if it has to do with my anosmia or what, but there’s a distinct foul taste that lingers toward the top of my palate. It’s like it travels from the back of my nasal cavity, right to the root of my tongue. It just tastes gross. It’s most pronounced when I drink soda. It’s putrid. It’s like acid grasping and gulping at me, yet I still reach for a can most days. Y’know, to cool down.

And I just don’t seem to realize it’s slowly killing me.

Jerks online who’ve conquered (or never had) any kind of food issues are quick to say things like, “Eat less, move more” in a relatively haughty manner. “Put down the fork” is another good one. Hell, I’ve said things like this, thinking I’ve gotten past my food issues. And yet no matter how far I think I’ve come, I still run back to the bad food every time I get a craving. But if I’m starting to be physically turned off by the bad foods, when is the day I shelve them for good?

I can safely say I’ll never pick up another cigarette. That addiction is dead and buried. And I can safely say I’ll never eat specifically McDonald’s ever again. I heard a grotesque report about it, which I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the thought of it disgusted me so much that I can never even think about eating it ever again. Same with Wendy’s. I had a chicken sandwich a few months back that was so nauseating that I’ll never feel the need to go back. And I’m just wondering when that same option is finally 86’d off the rest of my menu.

I’ve swallowed a lot of shit in my life. I’ve let a lot of people trample all over me and my feelings for far too long. And I don’t need to take that out on my temple anymore. I only get one body, it does me no good to keep demolishing it with crap over and over again. So maybe whatever light switch came on for smoking and McDonald’s, maybe it’s coming for the rest of it now. I’m no Gordon Ramsay, but I’ll take what I can get. Bon Appetit, to your health.

(18) …and justice for all cities

June Renew: Day 18

Weight: IDK I’m in D.C.

I spent 24-hours in our nation’s capital. Just a quick three-hour train trip away. I would havce stayed longer, but inflation is a bitch these days. They printed too much money there in Washington, and now we’re all feeling the effects. Either way, I knew I was going to have a nice time, as I always do anywhere I go, but I was definitely taken aback by a few things. I was expecting an eerie vibe all throughout the place, but I didn’t. It was calming and rich with history. I felt like everything had a purpose everywhere I went. All the very important people lining up in the very important buildings, ready to make something out of nothing but negotiations and legislations.

The first thing I saw after emerging from the Union Station was the Capitol building. Where it all went down. Where it still goes down, as they just don’t seem to want to let that 45-minute cringe riot go. I decided not to go to my hotel room just yet, so I tooled around a bit, walking toward the Capitol, the sight of so much and not enough. I just sat in front of it for a bit, struck by the majesty of such a magnificent structure. I even walked up to place my palm on the marble, just to make sure it was real. It wasn’t hard for me to toss out all my preconceptions about what a swamp it all is, It was just a nice place to be.

The coof™ rules are still said to be in effect, but just on public transportation. I took two Lyfts while I was there and the drivers didn’t mind seeing my naked face. Like I said yesterday, I am d-o-n-e. But one would think in a place like D.C. those rules would still be lingering. And yet, they’re not. I went to one of the Smithsonian art museums today and it was still optional. All of it got me thinking about New York City and the problem with it. What makes it so special that it still needs to put Covid at the forefront of everything? I saw just swells of tourists all over the place today. The line for the National Archives was so long I didn’t bother waiting to go in. D.C. right now is what New York thinks it is, but simply isn’t. All I saw was people who just want to enjoy what the city (well, district) could offer. New York has every opportunity to do so and they’re blowing it. If the American spirit can find a home in the core of the ‘problem,’ then what is my city’s problem here?

I do think if circumstances brought me to D.C., I could definitely hang there. I’d spend a lot more time outside for sure. According to my co-worker who I met up with down there, I picked a great weekend to go. The weather was just perfect, and there was an incredible breeze everywhere I went. But she did warn that in the summer it gets, quote, “swampy,” to which I had to resist the obvious joke. I can handle a little heat. I’ve long stopped caring about being a sweaty, sticky mess. So maybe one day I’ll get to be at the political helm of the country. Maybe I can make it better. I like to think my arrival there was so earth-shattering, it caused Joe Biden to topple off his bike. Too soon?

(17) i’m sick of it

June Renew: Day 17

Weight: 234.8

Despite the entire world seemingly moving on from the pandemic, we in New York still cleave to it like a booger on a 2-year-old’s nose. Sorry for being gross, but all I’ve heard the last two years has been “health, health health.” Don’t sneeze, don’t cough, get injected, watch for water droplets, shove a stick up your nose, spit into a tube, hell the CDC is releasing safe Monkeypox sex guidelines, and they recommend covering up your open wounds before you commence the fucking.

It’s all just so gross and weird. And We the People are finally done with it.

There’s still lingering mask mandates in big blue cities like New York, Philadelphia, and Washington, D.C. They just so badly want you to comply until they say it’s okay to stop. But upon arriving at Penn Station today, where a mask mandate is still in place, I comfortably walked in, happy to see a whole bunch of uncovered faces right along with mine. Maybe this would be an anomaly back in pandemic times, but we’re just not there anymore, no matter how much those at the helm wish we were. We all simply got better, finally cured of our illness. There is a difference between where we were in March 2020 and where we are in June 2022. But the Powers that Be are doing everything they can do convince you otherwise. Look at where the market landed this week: all three major U.S indices haven’t seen this level of carnage since March 2020. Wonder what else spread its filth that year.

They want to relive the sickness. They just no longer have the power to sustain it. The jig is up, but they keep pressing on like it’s not. That’s what makes it so fascinating and gruesome to watch.

There are still a few more stitches that need pulling out, especially in Manhattan, USA. I’ve made mention here before that I haven’t felt like we were in a pandemic since June 2020. I decided that was enough, I assessed my personal risk, and didn’t feel like it was necessary to play sick anymore (except when I actually was sick). I did what I needed to do; I worked from home, I masked up, and I’m still to this day taking a rapid test every morning before I enter the building. My manager one time said to me, “But aren’t you happy knowing you don’t have the virus?” “No,” I said, “I want to forget this thing ever existed in the first place.” And it’s a very hard place to get back to. I don’t want to be on my deathbed, telling my surrounding family that covid times were a bitch and a half.

I never want to feel like I’m “returning to normal.” I just always want to be here. I want each and every risk life throws at me, and that includes maybe getting sick with the flu again. I don’t need so-called leaders to care so deeply about my health and safety. I’m fine. Make the option available, just stop mandating these fucking things. Isn’t it better to admit our mistakes and move on, rather than pretend like we did everything right and the failures were completely out of our hands? We’re all just human. We’re not better than an endemic virus. We got through it. Congratulations. Remember those we’ve lost. Move on and live. It’s time. The only time I ever want to fear a sneeze is when I think I may toot at the same time.

Again, sorry for being gross.

(16) on my guard

June Renew: Day 16

Weight: 234.2

I watched a few fencing matches from the 2012 London Olympics on YouTube today. It was the sport that got me into Northwestern. It was the catalyst for all my knee problems. I had fun with it. And watching the masters at their craft today made me pine for simpler days where I wasn’t so crippled by arthritis. I wished I could try fencing again, if only for a little bit. I thought back on some of my more memorable matches, but other thoughts of the disrespect I showed to such a graceful sport kind of took over.

I always felt like I was the best fencer around, even though I clearly wasn’t. I just wanted to be good without having to work for it that much. And I never was humble about it. I didn’t accept defeat in a sportsmanlike manner, and thought I didn’t need to work for any accolades I may receive. I had absolutely no discipline, and a sport like fencing requires it the most. You don’t get good if you don’t practice, and I just didn’t want to put in the work.

I think about this a lot, because even though I stopped fencing, the lessons of it remain. I need to be disciplined in order to get good. I need to keep swinging my weapon and practicing if I want to see any results. Instead I just stay arrogant and haughty, not thinking I need to learn anything else from what life lands on the strip. I have to accept that the person who put on the knickers, jacket, and mask all those years ago is still the same person. That I still have it in me to be as awful and ungrounded as I was. But maybe if I time my moves better and actually play the physical chess, things won’t be as hard as I’m making them.

And by the way, I keep my sabre by my bedside. You know, just in case.

(15) get thee behind me

June Renew: Day 15

Weight: 234.4

I woke up feeling weird. I don’t know what came over me yesterday. It was like something else was possessing me and taking all the control. I think I overindulged in my hedonistic tendencies, and I wonder if what I did was enough to warrant everlasting punishment. My body betrayed my heart and I let baser instincts take over. It felt right at the moment, even if it was “wrong.” And I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again if the timing was right.

But waking up feeling like the Devil himself crawled inside me is something I hope never to revisit ever again.

I’m not trying to sell my soul to evil. I’m not attempting to put the focus on the dark side. I’ve believed in God my entire life but have slowly drifted away from the institution of religion for much of my adult life. I was going to church regularly, but dipped the moment one of the priests brought politics into a homily. It was just not an appropriate thing to say inside God’s house. I confronted him about it after the service and he said he didn’t believe he had done so. Something had just felt ‘off’ for me for a while, so I left. I suppose I could have found a different church, but I also didn’t feel like I needed a sit-down hour a week to be with God. The ritualistic nature of it all was something I felt I could leave behind, so I did. Now it’s my own personal walk with The Creator, and I hope other people find theirs.

But I’m still human. I still have wants and needs. And if I’m being this devilish lady with someone I feel God put here for me, is it really as bad as I’m making it?

Maybe I’m just responding to all the insanity we see every day. We’re watching the wheels fall off the wagon in real time, seeing the demons take hold on His earth, all the while hearing some class of people telling us all that we’re witnessing is normal. It’s not. There’s a lot of ‘not normal’ going on. There’s a lot of ‘don’t believe your lyin’ eyes’ going on. And there will be many people who’ve never known God who have to repent in front of Him soon. I won’t cheer on destruction or damnation of people, just as I shouldn’t beat myself up for wanting to show my love in all sorts of crazy ways.

The war is ongoing. The spiritual battle is raging. I know what side I’m on. I pray every day you’re there with me. Because once Judgment Day comes, it won’t be pretty for those who’ve danced with the demons for too long. I only sometimes want a tango for two. Hey, I’m only human after all.

(14) celebrity for a day

June Renew: Day 14

Weight: 235.4

I was showing a new co-worker around the basement control rooms today and ran into not one, but two people I knew. It was a big to-do with excitement upon seeing my friends, giving them hugs and saying how good it was to run into them. Being on a morning shift doesn’t really allow me to see people all that much. But it was still nice knowing I’ve still in some way left my mark on a place I’ve spent a huge amount of my adult life in.

When we got back upstairs, I made it clear that what happened was an anomaly. “I’m not popular,” I said. “What are you talking about?” one of my co-workers said, “Everyone likes you!” I had to stop and think about that for a second. The people I ran into were just as happy to see me as I was to see them. It wasn’t fake whatsoever. It was a genuine moment of being missed by people who’ve touched my life as I have theirs. It didn’t have to mean anything other than that. And for some reason I still have it in my head that I’m abrasive and rude and no one wants anything to do me as I stand alone in the limelight.

All this just goes back to unresolved feelings in high school. I never had a “clique” really. I was just the nerdy fencing chick. I didn’t connect with one particular group, I was just a drifter. But it always bothered me that I didn’t quite find my sense of belonging. I headed off to college, realizing “cliques” didn’t matter when you had a solid core group of friends. That’s all that really mattered; surrounding yourself with good people who aren’t there to ride your coattails into stardom.

So maybe I’ll never feel “popular,” but I’m accepting that I’m actually “liked” as it were. People aren’t as turned off by me as I’ve previously thought. Maybe addressing these feelings of inadequacy is step one in figuring out where they all came from to begin with. Everyone loves a good origin story. It’s where actors drum up the courage to be another person for a little bit. Luckily the only person I have to be is me. And she’s more of a star than she thinks.

(13) stay on target

June Renew: Day 13

Weight: 236.4

I do vague very well. People on Twitter all the time used to tell me “What do you mean?” when I’d make a vaguepost. Part of the thrill a lot of the time was to let people come to their own conclusions. It always just felt like it was my way to win hearts and minds in a crazy and confusing time. However, I know it drives people nuts. So I’ve been actively working on being more direct in what I want, especially when I’m in a time crunch at work. There’s no more waffling, it’s straight to the point. Get over the target and just go.

So why is it I can’t find the way to be direct with the one person I want to be more than anything?

I look at my parents’ relationship story, the blueprint for what ‘works,’ and it’s just as long and drawn out as all my relationships have been. The difference is they were actually dating. They were considered a couple. Pretty much none of the men who’ve been in my life can say the same. Out of the three people I’ve considered “boyfriends,” one said I wasn’t his girlfriend even though we dated for four months, and the other said we weren’t a couple because we didn’t survive our first fight. I guess my only “official” boyfriend was my high school boyfriend. And we only dated for six months. I had a lot of trouble letting him go, even though he shot his shot elsewhere long ago. Seems to be par for the course for all of them.

This long line of hearts I wish to touch just seems impossible when I’m put on the spot. I’m standing there, spear in hand, seeing the targets go by me, waiting for the perfect moment to throw it and land the bullseye. Yet when I think I have the chance, I balk. I revert back to everything I said I wouldn’t say, and just let things linger in limbo for a little longer.

Whatever energy I’ve channeled into work, I have to bring it to my personal life too. I think what’s really stopping me is an overbearing fear of rejection that keeps me at a dueler’s pace from literally everyone I want to get close to. I don’t know when it’ll happen, but one day I’ll summon the courage to just let it go and shoot my own shot. It gets easier to do so every day. Or at least think I can do it. I’ve had enough practice. Perhaps I’m ready for the big leagues after all.

(12) a victim of the new world

June Renew: Day 12

Weight: N/A, was at my parents’ house, but probably a lot

I’m not happy. I’m actually angry. I felt it as I was driving home today. I’m just so patently uncomfortable about everything going on and the only thing that’s making me feel better is food. I was this close to hitting a vape pen yesterday, and no one can tell me I shouldn’t do the same today. I fell off the food truck and today I’m putting the blame on the world.

And why shouldn’t I sometimes? Is it really all up to me? Don’t environmental factors play a part? Everyone else gets to blame everyone else, but I gotta shoulder the entirety of the bad feelings right onto me?

I do believe this world we’re in right now has cultivated a culture where people get to whine and complain all they want; to become victims of the cruelty of others, all the while receiving scorn from outsiders but ultimately receiving no consequences for their actions. They’ll still find someone to unflinchingly cape for them, to tell them they’re always in the right and never wrong. I don’t know how people find an audience like that, but it happens, and probably a lot more than we think. We’re in a land of assholes run by assholes, with more assholes telling you you’re the asshole for not wanting to sniff everything the assholes are emitting.

Sorry for the visual. Either way, this has been rattling around my head all day. My own little Planet Gina is just a cold, dark place right now. I’m so uncomfortable all the time and I’m not making enough of an effort to change things. When will I learn? I’m not sure yet. Is it possible to change? God only knows. I’m not about to try and end this on a happy note. I don’t have one right now. I’d sooner want a giant frickin’ laser beam to come from the moon and destroy us all at this point. That’s how I feel. That’s just what’s happening as my gravitational pull gets stronger.

Maybe it’s not the world’s fault. But today it is. And may tomorrow it won’t be. That remains a possibility. Because I know what’s really going on at the core of myself. Does the world always need to know everything?

(11) missing what’s behind me now

June Renew: Day 11

Weight: 235

This is limbo. This is the ether. This is the spot where we can either go forward or sink further into the pain. I felt so uncomfortable today about it. I try very hard to keep a positive outlook, but it gets difficult when I feel so alone in it all. My mom isn’t doing good. She cannot communicate and I can’t help her. My dad is increasingly frustrated as he gets older and is less able to take care of the house. It all seems so impossible because I cannot make the pieces fit, and we are pedal to the metal full steam ahead. What do I do? How do I fix it? Can it even be fixed?

There’s a pervasive sense that things can “go back” to how they once were. People on Twitter talk about how much they “miss” $2 gasoline. I can confidently say I don’t “miss” anything anymore, but I still feel like things can be how I wish they would be. When I’m back in my hometown and I drive by my grandparents’ house, I always feel like one day I’ll go back there. I can picture the inside so clearly. I see myself in there. Yet I won’t ever be. Not in this life, anyway.

Maybe all this “back” I’m feeling is what I will certainly see in the next life. Whether that’s the one after this or the new one we could soon see, I’m not sure yet. All I know is that I must keep looking forward, and not at what’s currently behind me. I have to face reality and step into the next plane of existence. I need not rubberneck at what’s passing me by, and I cannot stay focused on the rearview mirror when the brake lights in front of me are lighting up.

Now comes the part where I’m okay with these new beginnings. I’ve never been afraid of driving in the dark. Why start now?