Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Boredom Eating and Cleaning House

I may be taking advantage of the eat-fat-if-you’re-breastfeeding-for-your-baby’s-development thing a little too late, but so far this week I’ve had my regular breakfast at home supplemented by a cream-filled donut or, today, a chocolate croissant with coffee.  It’s more of a mental hunger than a physiological one; I have in my mind that I’m going to have something sweet with my coffee when I get to work, so my mind drives me to the coffee shop or gas station, runs the debit card for $0.95, and crams that sweetness in my mouth when I sit down at my desk whether my stomach says it’s time to eat or not.  I liken it to training for a marathon, and only when I’ve almost crossed the finish line do I decide that I need to carbo load.  Healthy?  Probably not.  Delicious?  You bet your sweet patootie it is.

Can I help you?

It's also a mental hunger because my mind has been starving for some occupational stimulation.  Over the past week my mind has been on Connor, on all the things that need to be done besides answering e-mails and phones and placing orders, on how I feel like I've been a crappy partner (I'm doing great at the wife stuff: dishes done, checkbook balanced, dinners made), on what I'm going to eat next.  It's gotten to the point that I've become a boredom eater.  I own it and admit it.  

Oh, you're lookin' at me?

I don't need a hobby or a book - I need something that will satisfy me considering that I do that "something" eight hours a day.  The hard part is that my job involves slow and busy times, and when the busy time hits I'll be complaining to you about how busy I am and how I don't have time to think about anything besides answering e-mails and phones and placing orders.  Having 'Rad makes so many other facets of my life seem lacking and just not as interesting as that drooling little dude.  

Whatevs.  I'm busy looking at this flower/rattle thing

My mind has been on my mental, physical, and emotional health lately because my mental, physical, and emotional houses are out of whack.  Physically, the only workouts I get are going up and down the 30 stairs at work when I take my pumping breaks and when I carry 'Rad around or play with him and bounce him in my lap.  Emotionally, I feel myself falling into dirty low-down rut, and looking down that dark tunnel scares the hell out of me since I have 'Rad-a-dude to care for.  

 The curtain project - finished months after initiation but finished nonetheless!
A close-up of the pattern - even Z gave his approval

If I'm not feeling the rut onset, I'm not sure how to feel about certain things; Should I be worried about this?  Should I care about that?  Should I take action or just put my head down and power through?  Tonight, after putting Connor down for his late nap, I found myself checking in on him on three separate occasions.  I haven't checked on him during naptime in ages at least three weeks.  I'm not sure what's going on here, but I know I don't like it.  Insecurity, please leave me and my family alone.  We all despise you.

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