Old Habits Die Hard (and other trite observations)

It's true though.

Turns out a lifetime of using food to celebrate success, strengthen relationships and heal perceived wounds is one of those habits that hangs around.  Despite my recent efforts, events of the past week have thrown me for a loop.  And, as most people do when they get knocked out of balance for whatever reason, there are all kinds of emotions that can accompany the process of getting off track and putting oneself back on.

The charming C and her beloved, the delightful D came down to visit for the weekend.  Which was AWESOME.  Such great people, such great times, with lots of food and wine to celebrate.  Luckily, we also spent the majority of a day traipsing around DC, which burned plenty of calories.  Not enough to completely make up for all the wine and food, but I was still down another 3.2 lbs for weigh-in on Monday, and J is down 0.6.  He was disappointed in that number, but I say down is down is down.  Onward!  (er, downward?)

More celebration ensued with the birthday of the marvelous M, which included numerous but oh-so-delicious pints and pies.  Unfortunately, our new-home baseball team losing embarrassingly to our old-home baseball team.  We consoled ourselves by yelling enthusiastically from the stands and drinking over-priced tallboys.  And J with his favorite stadium creation, bacon on a stick (read: a skewered slice of pork belly smothered in some sort of glaze).

Yesterday was far less fun, but no less caloric. All my patients cancelled or no-showed on me (which, in my memory, has never happened.  Or at least not since I had more than one at a time).  But that's neither here nor there, because the extra time allowed me to delve more into this tempestuous shit-storm we call internship applications.  Of late, I have been feeling pretty good about this portion of my life, which is a welcome change.  Creativity is flowing in the essay/cover letter department, I had mostly narrowed down a list of places, I am chugging along in plugging in all the minutia.  A fire has been lit under my tush because I've only got about a month before all this crap goes to seed, so there has been a little panicked energy behind my latest internship-related endeavors.  So, I used my time well, I felt things were going in the right direction, and I had two afternoon meetings set up in the service of the "Get A an Awesome Med Psych Internship" Project. Meeting 1: helpful and relatively confidence-inspiring.  Meeting 2: Oy.

Now, please bear in mind that I am grateful EVERY DAY that I am a part of this team.  They have been so incredibly helpful, supportive and encouraging.  The fact that they like and believe in me enough to support me through not one, but two years of externship has been a huge blessing, and I know it.  And the best part is that they care about each other, which I have discovered is an extremely important part of chemistry of a workplace, and definitely something that's a must where ever I go next.  Whatever my own response to the advice and guidance given as a result of these of these meetings, it has nothing to do with how much I respect and appreciate these folks.

So the fact that my response to the harsh truths borne of Meeting 2 was to sob like my pet unicorn died has nothing to do with the deliverer of said truths.

Of course, my deeply ingrained behavioral response to my feelings of disappointment, discouragement and deflatedment was to buy:

1. Bread.
2. Wine.

Luckily the Payless that used to live right next door to the grocery store went out of business, other wise you bet shoes would have been added to that list.  

Does it count that I bought a whole wheat baguette? No?  Dang.  

Desired wineglass not to scale. Bigger, please.

Thus old habits have been interfering in the dieting department for moi.  To our credit, however, things have remained  pretty steady in the exercise department, for both J and I.  No gym dates this week yet, but we have had a couple of actual dates, which have been much needed and just as nice.

Unsolicited Advice, Piece #267: No matter how long you've been with your partner, date them. Take them out, show them off to the world, even in those moments when you're not particularly fond of each other.  This is an essential ingredient in a happy, lengthy union.  I've decided.

While this particular habit of eating as celebration and consolation has not served me well this week, others have.  Like reaching out to those I love, making rewarding plans for after I've actually accomplished something, and talking things over ad nauseum with J.  Many thanks to my beloved husband for making dinner, hugging, listening and being a much-needed voice of reason last night during my unicorn-slaughter-meltdown.  

What's the saying about how many times one must repeat a behavior for it to become a habit?  Like 30?  Here's to attempt #1 of 30 of going to the gym instead of the grocery store during times of high-intensity.  Cheers.