How Many Lights Do You See?

Before I get to the lights, let me tell you a little story.

You see, it’s been quite some time since I have written anything and the thoughts and reasoning behind why I’m back will be after the story when I will try to tie this all together and probably end up with a ball of knots. Anywho, for reasons to be explained later, I’m back. Usually, when I fall off and then show back up, I change the look and feel of the blog. It gets me kinda excited about writing again, or at least about looking at this page. Off I go to WordPress.

I’m not really picky with what I want the site to look like since there’s all of maybe five of you reading it and I’m not quite concerned enough to go do some CSS work. Proceed to downloading! First theme I didn’t really care for since it didn’t want to embed videos and videos are often quite related to the point I’m trying to make. The second theme looked good. I installed it. My site died.

Now, not to the point where if you just went to the site, it gave you a pretty 404 or anything. The Internet taught me that I basically had the white screen of death. Broke-ded-ed. Shit. Ok, well, I’ll just go change the theme from my dashboard. Ohhhhhh, FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDGE! But I didn’t say fudge. Because I’ve got the WSOD on my dashboard. I can’t access my site. Sad face.

Lucky me, y’all. I’m a bright star when I wanna be and I know how to use dem dere dubbyas. Also, lucky me that I remembered how to actually access my account where this madness is hosted. And I know basic stuff. And FTP-ing. Yeah. Fixed. And damn if I can remember the name of the theme that killed my site, but if I do, you better believe I’m gonna complain.

Moving right along….

It seems that, as of late, I’ve had some anger management issues. Ok, they’ve probably always been there, but I maybe have letting it slip out a little bit lately. Pretty sure that my attitude has been THERE ARE FOUR LIGHTS! complete with the ‘get off me’ arm shake. Because there were four lights. You were right, Captain. Four. Fucking. Lights. Unfortunately, the Enterprise isn’t coming to get me and being right isn’t getting me anywhere except straight to the land of frustration.

What’s changed? What’s changed? Still working for the man. Still working out. Still getting my ommmm on. Ohhhh, hey, remember back when you used to write all the time? When you published gems like this or led congregations like this? Remember when you were funny? Like, regular funny, not I’m laughing but man is that chick a bitch funny. Remember when you could turn your anger to funny? Remember when you could let go of shit? Let it literally flow through your fingers and into the webiverse? You gotta get back there. And that’s why I’m back again.

I probably won’t ever go into specifics about anything because it’s 2018 and this isn’t private, but I’m sure that I can get back to funny me. I can shake em off like Picard, but those Cardassians we’re shaking off, they’re all the frustrations of the Corporate Federation. BUT I’M STILL THE CAPTAIN OF THIS MOTHERFUCKING STARSHIP! On this ship, it’s still a motherfucking party. It’s like a mullet. Business when we’re on-screen, party when we’re off. Right, Number One?!?!

Aaaaanywho, it’s Monday and does anyone else get an obscene amount of junk email in their work inbox related to other jobs?!?! It’s total madness. Dear Spam Emailers, I don’t make decisions! Leave me alone. Ok, I do make decisions. I’m the Captain, after all. And I’m back.

 

The Choice Is Mine

This or that? This or that? The choice is mine.
For the last several Mondays, I’ve opened my closet and thought to myself, “Dammit! I didn’t get any shirts for work again!” And then I’d throw on something in my minimal rotation of appropriate work-wear. Last week, I started getting crafty and wearing shirts that weren’t exactly work-appropriate, but they weren’t bad enough that anyone would say anything. You know, because a cute sweater over anything makes it good to go, right?
Every time I have this conversation with myself, I sigh aloud and wish that I could just wear yoga pants. Then I consider a career in fitness. Then I eat cookies. That’s why I don’t have a career in fitness. I mean, I could, but starting fresh, it would take forever (and I might not even get there) to get back to making what I make now. And you know, car payments and rent and junk. Never, however, did I give up on my yoga pants dream.
Well then, what do you know? It looks like those yoga pants dreams are about to come true. It looks exactly like I’m about to have a new position. One that’s 100% (ok, maybe 99.2%) remote. Did I take a little pay cut? Yeah, but is it worth it? Hellz to the yeah. New learning and growth opportunities abound in the new position and I’m excited, yet scared and nervous all at the same time. I really and truly feel bad about leaving my current position. But it’s been rare (I’m looking at you job on Miami Beach and one in downtown Denver!) that I’ve been excited, nay, thrilled to give a two week notice. One other time, I actually cried. Those people were just the tits though. I love the BH family. This time, I’m torn.
There are many more positives than negatives in regards to my moving on, but I will certainly miss a handful of these folks. It’s weird to put myself in the category of ‘those who have fallen by the wayside’. But, being in that category gives me much more time to keep the house clean, to cook fun stuff, and to work on my flexibility because no one cares if I’m at home on the floor in a straddle stretch. In the office, I’m gonna get some side eye and possibly a reprimand for sure.
So, it’s a new and exciting adventure upon which I’m about to embark. Why not, right? New house, new job. Who knows what else might pop up. Besides a sexy new computer desk that I was eyeballing and now have a perfectly good reason to purchase. It’s going to be tough the first month or so, I’m sure of that. But I’m also sure that I can handle it. Do you know why?
Because I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me!

Thwack

Oh man, oh man, ohhhhh maaaaaaaan.

Sometimes, there’s just a mental state that sets in and all one can do is sing along with something that requires only the tiniest amount of though. Enter the above. Plus it’s just fun to sing along with in its nonsensical way.

Something I learned the hard way last night is that I am no good the next day if I go to sleep, am woken from said sleep to do work, then have to try to go back to sleep. You see, I like my sleep which means I’m usually in bed by 10pm because 5am really does come pretty quickly. When my work phone rings at 11:30, I’m groggy at best and grumpy at worst. Then when I’m done with work at 12:15 and I go back to bed, it’s 45 minutes of tossing and turning and trying to relax and shut off my mind to get back to sleep. Yes! Being the boss is awesome.

This morning was my second go-round with Fit & Bendy. Knowing that the warmup in the video wasn’t quite enough for me, I knocked out 100 jumping jacks before I got started. Realistically, still not enough of a warmup, but better than nothing. Again today, I am feeling like I stretched and I could tell the difference from just one session in the opening of my upper back and shoulders. The real test will be to see if I get any movement from the upper back when I go to the chiropractor as he usually has a pretty tough time getting my upper back to adjust. That will be a small victory that ends up getting squashed by all of the other things that are out of place (right leg turns out, hips out of line, shoulders mild disaster). I am also seeing the tiniest bit of progress with my split as well, on both sides even! There’s a section for middle splits and I do that as well, however, I think that I fall into that category of people whose  femurs sit deep in the hip socket which in turn does not allow for center splits. I promise you that I am not simply making this up as an excuse. I have X-rays and MRIs that show exactly that, but I’ll still work on getting them as far as my body will allow.

Thursday. Thirsty Thursday. No. But I can’t think of a word that starts with “th” that applies to me going to the firing range. Thwack Thwack Thursday. And it’s been the kind of week where thwack, thwack, thwack is certainly needed. It’s the little things that let me blow off steam and help keep me sane. Little things…firing off that 9mm and pole dancing. It sounds funny, but you’d probably be surprised how many gun enthusiast pole dancers there are. I mean, without even thinking, I know of five. It’s always fun to see one thing bring people together to learn that they have so much more in common.

Throw your hands up and just say ho! Hasta mañana.

Jump!! Training

Ahh, Diamond Dave. With a split better than mine. Go head, DD. Couldn’t nobody mess with you back in the day. Well, you know, except Eddie and Alex. It has nothing to do with you that my favorite Van Halen song is actually a Van Hagar song, but Dreams, come on.

So it’s Tuesday and you  know what that means…plyometrics, aka jump training, aka all fucking squats, lunges, and jumping while doing them, aka this better make my ass look phenomenal. Seriously, by the time I finish this round, my ass better be damn near on my shoulders. I think it’s a more reasonable goal now that I can actually do squats. Three months ago, the area around my hips was so tight that I couldn’t even get into a squat properly. I was all head down, leaned over, and not even getting my quads parallel to the floor. Today, I can get past parallel. Or, I can when I properly handle the knot that’s currently residing in my left tensor fasciae latae and it’s being a total jerk at the moment. I need to talk my chiropractor into some Graston on that leg. Not because it causes me pain, per se, but because it’s hindering my split progress.

It’s Tuesday and that also means I get to go to Noodles and Company for some Thai Hot Pot. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if/when they take that away. It is at about a 16 on a scale of 1 to 10 for a deliciousness factor. I couldn’t even put it into words. Just go find a N&C and find out for yourself. I don’t eat the peppers. I don’t know for sure what they are and I don’t want my mouth to be on fire.

And, it’s Zumba Tuesday. I missed the last two weeks as P90X was kicking my ass, but now I’m in the groove and I’m ready to get my cardio on and shake my ass. Makes me happy after a long day of sitting at a desk and banging my head against the nearest metal object.

Last night was a good night since I passed my level. However, last night was also a bad night since I remembered to take my glucosamine and fish oil pills that made my tummy rumble something fierce. Yikes. But, no bubble guts, no bubble butts. Of course that’s not true, but it rhymed.

Ok kids, I’m off to be productive. It’s Tuesday but it’s also my Thursday. Snowboard jumps, here I come!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

May those of you who celebrate or have the luck of the Irish have a wonderful day. Assuming that you’re not already hungover from the weekend.

Today is certainly going to be a manic Monday, although it’s really Manic Thursday which is a joke you will only get if you are deep inside the circle of trust.

I missed another day of blogging yesterday but I’m over beating myself up about it. Nothing of tremendous interest happened anyway. We cleaned both the front and back yard. I actually skipped going to the trapeze to help with yardwork. I’m quite possibly losing it.

It’s gonna be a short one today because today through Wednesday, the most senior member of my team is out so I’ll have a lot of slack to pick up. Wish me luck and no strangling.

Erin Go Braugh and green beer and all that jazz.

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