Or tea, or #covfefe, I would put on a fresh pot instead of drinking this lukewarm swill from seven o’clock this morning.
If we were having coffee, I would wish you a merry Christmas, whether you celebrate it or not. I’d also wish you a happy whatever-you-choose-to-celebrate, all year long. I have no war with any holiday, nor with anyone who wishes me well in any form or any language.
To the plot bunnies, ninjas, pirates, and Pastafarians: I hope that you see His Noodly Goodness in the form of sparkling tinsel and copious amounts of delicious pasta. Ramen.
If we were having coffee, I might confess to you that my own blog gives me performance anxiety. I don’t believe in writer’s block; I won’t use that excuse. But I can’t write great litrahchure and hold back the silliness and still have fun. Let’s just lay these cards on the table right now: this blog’s not getting nominated for a Pulitzer. I’m okay with that if you are.
I promised I’d finish this, and I will.
If we were having coffee, I’d offer you a cookie to go with it. No, I’d offer you two. I oopsed and bought new jeans. I tried them on. They seemed snug. I thought I was simply enduring the consequences of overindulgence in Magic Bars, Bourbon Balls, and homemade shortbread cookies. To my slight relief, I realize now that the old ones were “relaxed fit.” The new ones aren’t. Never mind that I’ve also regained about thirteen pounds. These things couldn’t be any tighter if I’d painted them on. That I can wriggle into them and still squat is a #FestivusMiracle. I’m not wearing anything else till my weight’s back down below what I re-gained; let these jeans serve to bolster my resolve. It’s impossible to snack and breathe at the same time in these things, but the look I got from my husband just now makes it worth the trade off.
At least we can still have coffee.
If we were having coffee, I’d invite you to walk with me. Here.
We had a fitness center at work, so I dropped my pricey gym membership. Then Hurricane Harvey stormed through Houston, drowning my office, the fitness center, my favorite park and walking trail, and much of my determination to get fit and stay fit. A sort of malaise set in as thirteen stealthy pounds crept back to hug my hips, unnoticed. I love working from home, but I have a tendency to start right after rolling out of bed, sometimes (unwisely) before coffee. Colleagues in India have learned to ask if I have at least half a cup of caffeine in me before asking technologically challenging questions. I’ve had coffee with some of you, online, at seven o’clock in the morning. You know. I can keep on working until bedtime, with breaks for bathroom, lunch, and dinner. It’s amazing to be able to focus, uninterrupted, for so long, but maybe it’s not entirely healthy.
So, I bought a new pair of athletic shoes – I literally wore out the insides and insole supports of the old pair, but the outsides held up beautifully. I bought a $15 set of resistance cables – #RESIST, eh? – so I have no excuse not to do strength training anywhere. The whole set fits into my backpack.
Resolution #1: Get over the idea that I need access to fancy gym machines to get fit and develop strength.
Resolution #1a (related, sort of): Get over the notion that fresh ideas need fresh notebooks. Stop ripping pages out or shoving them under the bed. (That’s what loose-leaf is for.)
If we were having coffee, I’d look over the rim of the mug and think (loudly) how glad I was that we were having coffee together. For all the times I haven’t said it, or the times you haven’t heard it, I’m sorry.
And hope, while we’re having coffee, that you’ll tell me, in the comments below.