Motivation, Chicken Feet, Veganism, And The Reality That Everything Will Be Ok

I can't seem to motivate to leave the house today. It's beautiful out. Sunny and warm. I'm sweaty and indoors. What is wrong with me?

I managed to go to bed before 3AM last night which assisted with getting up at 9 without too much complaint, eating some toast and some pears and applying for jobs online. I don't know how many times I've reworked my resume but the task is making me blind. I've sent my lot out for the day. My homework is done and the idea of getting out of the house and going to the gym is agitating me. I feel...busy. It's ridiculous really. I used to get up at 5AM, work a full time job, hit two yoga classes a day and still manage to putz around before going to bed and now if I have more then 3 things to do in one day I feel myself start to worry that I won't have time to do all three and I start to stress. This is a sign that I probably need to get back to work. Perspective. I need some.

Matt and I walked up Grant St. through Chinatown so he could practice some of his Mandarin. This was excellent as it led us to meeting a woman who took us to a hole in the wall dim sum place up a hill and tucked into a corner hidden from the hustle and bustle of touristy Grant. While he got excited over finding chicken feet on the menu and went on about how they were the best discovery of his 3 month stint in Beijing I perused the menu sweaty, tired and hungry. I found the veggie dishes but found myself wanting to throw my hands in the air and just get something fried and chicken-y but I didn't.

I knew if I did, I would eat 2 bites, it would suck and I'd be sad and probably sick.

My braised tofu plate had enough food to feed a family of four for a week. I'm glad I ordered wisely.

Matt asked if I was a vegan and I think it was the first time I had ever said yes.

I've kept private about a lot of my decisions and have just done whatever under the radar without any big announcement or fanfare. I quit smoking without warning anyone. I quit meat without saying anything. I quit dairy and kept it to myself feeling like the best way for me to do anything is to just do it and if people care to know, they'll ask. It's never been very helpful to me to tell the world every single thing. The last time I did so was with my last blog and that did nothing but get me in trouble that only Craig Newmark could get me out of. So I do whatever I do and I don't say much about it.

There is this weird feeling that arises though when people do ask me about things and I clam up and realize that I really don't like saying 'yay' or 'nay' about stuff, whether they're asking me if I'm a vegetarian or if I'm looking for work, I usually want to opt out and not answer. I don't know exactly why this is, but I'm guessing it's stemming from some sort of fear of being judged or categorized. I know that it's really not my job to make sure that someone doesn't throw me into the "vegan" or "unemployed" or "freewheeling hippie" box in their brain. I'm really not involved in the process so I need to not be too concerned about what people think of me.

I've spent a lot of time lately turning off my brain and letting myself experience things, even things such as insecurity and sadness. I recognize that when I start to feel unstable that it's just a feeling and it'll eventually pass. With that, I've been able to say stupid things, do stupid things, let myself be embarrassed by them and then let them go. This has opened up lots of room to be happy.

At dinner last night with the boys on Castro St. I sat and thought about the first time I had gone to that particular Thai restaurant with Jeff and I felt really good about everything. I have memories with someone that I carry with me that bring me joy. I can go about my everyday life, doing my thing, enjoying my downtime, looking for work, making my dinner and laying in bed, knowing that, in essence, everything is ok. I can look at my rag tag group of friends and know that I have a large support group of people who will be there when things aren't ok. I've surrounded myself with good people who are family to me. I remind myself that I like me. I'm a good egg. When I get weird or twitchy about things and start to doubt that, I work hard to remember to be nice to myself because I like me. At the end of the day, that matters a whole lot more then anything else really.