Stressing

I shouldn't have done it, quit cold turkey like that. I could have weaned myself away from - I don't know - opals, first, then gold, and then progressed to all jewelry. Why did I agree to a complete, global, abrupt fast?

It's my day off. I should be at the thrift stores, squinting through my loupe at the hallmarks, peering down the length of my arm to see how my potential find looks on my hand. Tomorrow ... okay, yes, I have a new class starting, but I could still go to a few yard sales, breath caught in anticipation of a bonanza, the electricity of potential horse-trading crackling in the air as I pull up then nonchalantly peruse a table full of pieces.

Oh, man I want to weep. I haven't had this much fun learning about - and hunting down - anything since I first started collecting milk glass. Yes, eventually I will become jaded (jade, sob!) as I did with milk glass (because I'm picky now, and I know 90% I see is shi - uh, common) but I'm still in the initial throes of infatuation, and my evil-mean parents just told me the boy is out of my life. Never mind that I was obsessing; it was love!

I keep telling myself that I'm becoming stronger, more appreciative, better equipped to resist the sparkle and get real bargains (and better pieces) with every day that passes. I recite "this is the right thing to do" like an effing mantra, that it's "prep work for an avalanche" of great finds. But I still feel as if someone stole Christmas.

Argh, cut it out! There's no crying in long-term, market-driven resource investment! I can do this!

I just need to shift focus.

Okay, um ... what's new? ... Well, Left Field is flying in with his partner for Thanksgiving. I'm actually over the moon about this, and no joke. I love having my children in proximity. Alaska is too far away to even be "prox". We'll do all the touristy things around here since (need a name for his partner!) has never been to this end of the world. Honestly, I'm such a geek that I adore doing all the sites (and sights). Add in a big holiday dinner, some board games, and a whole lot of chillin' and it's a recipe for a perfect week or so.

Oh, yeah, also - in desperation the other day, I took out my metal detector, a Big Lug classic present from several years ago. There really are a butt-load of blips, all over my yard. And since we're on top of an old farmstead, that could be not just cool but profitable, so I called our local utility ID place to come out and mark the lines. The nice lady got to the part about "reason for excavation" and I told her "treasure hunting." Silence. "I don't have a box for that," she said, "but it sounds like so much fun," and typed it in. I'll probably just be a bucket of nails richer by mid-September, but I'll sweat off a couple of pounds, aerate the lawn, and provide at least a moment's amusement for all the line-finders. Always, double- and triple-duty, right?

I'm planning the big trip, too. We leave a week from Tuesday. I need to contact everyone about Christmas and Hanukkah, too - which magazines to keep up, where sizes and tastes and trends are this year, all that good stuff. I'll have no end of possibilities for buying, and soon. Even jewelry - for other people.

Besides, I can still look at gems and platinum, I just can't buy it. (The Tiffany & Co. web site is always a good place for fasting addicts - can't afford much anyway) Plus, if it gets too bad, I'll just clean up what I have and, technically, end the drought.

But I don't think I'll need to. I can make it.

And I'll be sure to tell you what happens next.

Fasting

Some do it for atonement, or a spiritual breakthrough, or a vision. Some do it for gratitude, or to check their sugar levels. A few do it as instructed, and many do it on a regular schedule. I'm doing it for at least two weeks.

Fasting. From times of pre-history, man has fasted - alone and as community, in ritual and in emotion, for strength and for penance. It is believed to be the ultimate sign of our humility (and sometimes frailty), done for God as often as for ourselves.

I'm kind of hoping for some instant karma.

My work schedule has been and will be hell for quite awhile, and the yard sale/thrift store circuit takes time. I haven't let my life slide into the abyss or anything, not this time, but I'm tired of making piles and cleaning them up in one fell swoop - especially when the biggest pile is something I'm supposed to love, my jewelry. Plus, two weeks ago, I had a bad reaction to a pair of pierced earrings. Whether it was too much nickel in the mix (I'm allergic) or a miscalculation in the level of tarnish (I do scrub with alcohol!) I don't know, but both my ears and my glands swelled up, and I felt punky until ... um ... yesterday!

Low inventory of quality stuff, higher prices, killer silver, the obsession that has gripped me for months ... you'd think I'd get the message faster by now, huh? There is (seriously) a spiritual principal that says, basically, if you want something new, then either open a hole for it to fall into or give into the great pool - or both. You want time? Clear some junk from your schedule, volunteer at a hospital, and watch how the minutes start to mountain up. Money? Stop shelling it out for those cigarettes and that McMuffin, give it to a shelter, and prepare for the check in the mail. Love? Stop looking in the mirror and give some of it away. Clients? How many are you bogarting, anyway? And here's the best part - whether you start it for the right reasons or the wrong reasons, you will eventually get results, but do it for love or obedience or improving the world or paying back (or paying forward), and you will have a bumper crop of whatever it is you give away, faster and longer.

So when it came to me that I shouldn't buy any more jewelry until I clean what I have (thank you, Mama Angel) I knew immediately that it was right. I'm not doing this (only) to get more but (mostly) because it's necessary. It's not even about catching up. It's about self-discipline - proving I can handle the pressure of "more" - and saying "it's enough" because it is. All of us get these tests all the time, and we never actually fail - we just get the same exam over and over until we pass.

I'd like to get an a-plus this time.

And I will.

Flip-flopping

Years ago, I wore the most comfortable shoes during the summer. They were Dr. Scholl's, I think, with wooden soles, and bumps where the toes began so that I would have to grip with my feet while I walked. They were the thing, then, and subsequent incarnations of them have proven to be quite popular. Even the lowly flip-flop is accepted in places far beyond its original poolside haunt. Some are quite stylish - covered in rhinestones or ribbon or cutwork.

Earlier this week, however, podiatrists decried the unstrapped sandal because we are made to push off with our toes, not hold on. Apparently my painful feet issues didn't come from high heels (which I haven't worn since Field Trip was born) but from years and years of pseudo-beach footwear.

This wasn't the only reversal, either. For decades pediatricians have told us that putting babies on their stomachs causes SIDS, a horrible, unreasonable, and sudden death. Today I heard a frantic cry for "tummy time," because when babies are on their backs all the time it can cause developmental issues in the brain. They even want us to - gasp! - put the infants on their sides, as well!

And what's this about a growing movement based on a 1939 book about food? Dentists and doctors all over the world are getting on board with a nearly seventy-year-old philosophy of eating liver, butter ("so thick you can see teeth marks"), unpasteurized milk, bone jelly, and anything fermented and pickled. It seems this newfangled, modern love affair with lean meats, raw vegetables, and monounsaturated fats is hampering our ability to process and use certain vitamins and enzymes - perhaps why we have so much heart disease and cancer in this happy-happy, sanitized world.

Of course, my favorite one is the reversal on credit cards. As I paid them off, I closed them - that was what was recommended, and it seemed reasonable. Little did I know (because I won't pay the $10 a month to monitor it) my credit score has been falling - because what the "experts" apparently didn't know is that credit bureaus base those scores on how we use credit, which, in we've-lost-too-much-to-bad-mortgages double-speak, means the ratio of how much we have borrowed to how much we can access in open credit lines.

Y'know, I get the whole "new research" thing. I do. Things change, people update. But I'm really angry at the dogpile this week! So, rather than throw out all of my plastic sandals (which, to be honest, look super-fab on this new body) I will walk tippy-toed around the house. And I always solved the baby issue by play time - lots of airplane and roly-poly and bicycles with their legs. As for the food thing, hell, until recently I made my own stock (and will again, egad!) and since I'm German by background the only thing I haven't tasted in more than a month or two is the milk - and I have seriously tactile memories of the bottles with cream on the top and the taste ... oh, Lord, the taste of that wonderful milk ... if someone builds it, I will come. And I figured out the credit card thing awhile ago anyway, but decided to just open a couple newbies - with rebates (mortgage and gas) that I will pay off every month.

Maybe my real problem is not that people have reversed their stances; it's that I fell for anything in the first place. From child rearing to sealing our houses to alcohol consumption, we are listening every day to these experts - people who must climb over each other to get their names into print (which equals money from grants and endorsements). Doctors, gurus, and politicians talk, and we listen and even act without question when they say "change this," "buy this," "eat this," or "don't worry we have plenty of money" for ... whatever ... and budget be damned.

What's happened to common sense? What's happened to saying "no" or "yes" because we know it's right? Are we so afraid of making our own mistakes that we will copy others' bolos? Are we that insecure or do we simply need someone to blame when things go wrong?

Trouble is, I will still listen to them, still take their view to heart. But not to action. I will listen and read and then do what makes sense to me. I will listen to my conscience, my heart, and my head. And if I screw it all up, even if I do it listening to others, then it's still my mistake, not theirs.

After all, who else is in charge of my life if not me?

Slipping

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The eternal question, right? I've been wondering about it the past few days, mostly (as usual) as it pertains to my life. How does one recover from a barrage of backsliding when one does not understand where it all came from or why?

I know the what. First, there was the food binge. I've told you before that I've lost weight in the last year - over 70 pounds, to be exact. I was less than 10 away from my goal. Now I'm more like 13. And, worse, every square inch of my body wants to either puke, fold like a pair of deuces, or, in the case of my eyes, wobble and ache and spin my brain every time I stare at a computer screen. Was it the ice cream, the cookies, the pita chips ... the Goldfish ... the bread? Or did a bug hit me beforehand? The nausea, the lack of clarity, the dizziness ... when did it start? Toxic food, intestinal bacterium, maybe new glasses ... or did I just give up?

Second, I had an interesting shopping week. I thought I'd found my first piece of platinum (marked "950") in the form of a modern, rather ugly and plain ring, for $7.99 at my local Salvation Army store. But it was probably just a better form of silver (lacking the requisite "plat" stamp). Then, two days later, I spent $15 because I didn't understand what "HGE" meant (heavy gold electroplate) - and while the jury's still out on another ring I bought (not marked but set with good stones) I suspect I've been indulging in the I-don't-love-it-but-it's-worth-the-experiment thing that I swore I'd never do again. (Oh, and I spent $400 on groceries and impulse Costco stuff - argh!) Why are my defenses down?

Third, I said I'd catch up this weekend but I didn't. I didn't clean last month's finds, nor did I call all of my clients - three are still outstanding. And while I could be doing it now, truth is I took my daughter to the airport at five this morning, then Princess to her preschool (20 miles away), and I'm pooped. I have two tutorials in about ... 5 minutes ago, too. Once I'm done, I'll start calling. I hope. I can't be sure - I've broken so many vows to myself lately that I woke at 2am the other night calling myself a "stupid cow" and kicking myself into a migraine. I haven't done that in decades.

Wow. That's it, isn't it? It really doesn't matter whether the toxic gluttony came first or the intestinal bacterium. I screwed up, and then I let it snowball and spread like a virus into my entire life. Truth is, whatever started it, I need to finish it. Now. It's time to admit the slip, the sin, the slide, the avalanche and instead of asking "what kind of idiot am I?" I should ask "how will I fix it?" That's all any of us can do. Because whether the chicken came from the protean primordial soup and launched itself into Frank Perdue's dream fortune, or the egg appeared by the grace of a benevolent diety and made breakfast the most important meal of the day, it doesn't matter. Life is what it is, no matter the order, warts and all.

And I have too good a future in mind to miss it because I'm glaring at the past.

Catching Up

Pop quiz, hotshot - someone offers you bags of money but only if you work a split-shift, long-hour day, long-day week, for as many weeks as they need ... this including your other job, the one you love but don't get paid for, and in spite of your family ...

What would you do?

What would you do?

I took the money. Yeah - despite the five-night past-my-bedtime schedule and the never-ate-with-my-husband, too-tired-to-snuggle workout, I grabbed that paycheck with both hands. It's rare that that much work drops into my lap, but it happens in my line. The key is not dropping beside it.

The month of July was all about teaching and tutoring, selling program and paperwork, back and forth from storage, and shifting into burn-out mode. I just now organized all of my jewelry found in the last 31 days, and finally photographed it. Tonight I'll begin the long cleaning process - I've been wearing pieces scrubbed with alcohol, but most need some degree of tarnish removed. I'm down two classes this week but up five tutorials, and my calendar is getting more crowded by the moment. Plus, I started another blog, one to serve as beard for all my sub rosa typing for the Big Lug, but it, like organization and grocery shopping, fell by the wayside this past month.

I want to scream.

Except I won't.

This is my life. I knew when I started this that I would have to keep my secret from the Big Lug, somehow. I also knew I would be doing things I hadn't had to the courage to do for years, like write to a schedule (here, so far, but the other blog, too, eventually), get dive certified (haven't found a reputable place that fits my schedule yet), or even simply write fiction (a young adult fantasy series, outlined and packaged as proposal, hopefully out to editors by the end of the year). I knew I would have to prioritize, mostly around my paid-work schedule but also around my family. And I knew things would occasionally suffer, which is why I stocked up on our staples in June so I wouldn't be distracted by too many big shopping trips.

We all feel as if we are playing catch-up from time to time. Other things bump to the head of our queues - a sick child or grandchild, a looming deadline, an out-of-commission car, a vacation - and we must let other things slide until the crisis is over. I'm not immune. In fact, it's my way of life, and probably always will be, no matter what I do for a living or for love. I used to try to do everything - perfectly - and nearly killed myself a few times.

Trying to be SuperBunny is a hard habit to break, but break it I will.

Starting right now.