So with a moment to breathe I look back at what I've written on this blog in the last six weeks and see a lot of failure. Wanted to get back on the wagon and lose some weight. Didn't. Wanted to start blogging again on a regular basis. Didn't. Wanted to find a good balance between administrative duties and writing/research and other facets of my work. Haven't.
Sounds awfully negative, I know, but completely true. Directing a writing program is immensely rewarding much of the time but you have to question its "worth." Hours on campus have increased exponentially. It's not really the kind of work where you hear "hey, nice job" very often. More frequently it's "Oh, you didn't do that? Okay."
Likewise getting on the wagon. I have no will power and am totally focused on food. I eat too much. I could lie about it or fake optimism, but I'm choosing to tell the truth. Not sure why it's so hard for me to do that: tell the truth about negative stuff. My impulse is to nod, say I'm fine, etc., but I don't think that impulse has been productive or healthy.
I can keep trying to change: find balance, treat my body better, say no at work without guilt. But, frankly, I'm not optimistic.