My husband and I kind of had it out the other day. He’s frustrated. He’d like to retire. I would like him to retire. Still we need to bring in money so we can, you know…live. This means the pressure is on me to become a successful writer (sooner rather than later) so the above can happen, “…if that is really what you want to do with your life,” he says. “If you want to be a writer, though, you can’t treat it like a hobby. You have to focus and work at it every day just like any other job.” Ya think! That’s what I’ve been telling him: I need several hours of alone time every day so I can write my stories, book, and blog.
He gets this, but also doesn’t understand why I’m not getting up extra early in the morning to have that alone time…like I told him I was going to do when I graduated with my B.S. this past May. The goal was to write and finish my book this summer instead of hitting the pavement and getting a “real” job. I had every intention of getting up at 5:00 a.m. every day, except then my sleep schedule got all screwed up (which he already knows because we share a bed and he complains when I wake him up at all hours) and…it’s been really difficult to get back on schedule. I suffer from insomnia at night and it’s difficult to stay awake during the day. I sometimes don’t get to sleep until about the time I should be getting up, and then I’m in a fog all day long. And while writing at night might sound like a feasible option, I’m just too damned tired to write during the wee hours. Then, there’s the crazy, chaotic stress of my daily life. I seem to be at his and everyone else’s beck and call in this household…including our three cats. It can be overwhelming. He says this sounds like a bunch of excuses.
He needs me to be successful in the old-fashioned sense of: I’m actually making money, damned good money, enough-to-pay-the-bills-and-then-some-kind-of-money. I told him I get the distinct feeling he doesn’t really believe in me. I think he pays a certain amount of lip service to my plans, which include him by the way, but that he secretly believes I will fall flat on my face. Fail miserably. This is upsetting to me, which makes it even harder to do what I’ve set out to do. I feel judged and convicted and I haven’t really even had a chance to get started.
One of the ways he undermines me is by enabling me when I set out to accomplish something difficult. For instance, I explained to him, “You know I want to quit drinking cokes. I know they’re bad for me. I fear they’ll be the downfall of my health like my mother’s cigarettes were the downfall of her health.” So, what does he do? He makes sure we have an endless supply of cokes in the house, that’s what! I’ve asked him repeatedly not to buy any more cokes. However, he knows that when the going gets tough for me, and it seems to get tough on a daily basis, I will reach for a coke. I would prefer not to, but you know, sometimes I would kill for one. Not all of the time, but I have my moments. Is it really my fault that I’m addicted to fizzy water, sugar and caffeine?
Anyway, he gets annoyed because if we don’t have any cokes in the house, and I am having one of those moments, I will go to Sonic and get a Route 44. This drives him crazy. He’d prefer to spend what he believes will be less money by buying canned cokes in bulk, which roughly equals forty cents a coke, rather than have me go to Sonic and blow all of $2.50 on a Route 44 every once in awhile. Why is it so difficult to understand that I’d rather have to go out of my way to get a coke and spend that extra money than to have one readily available? I’m much less likely to go out of my way…unless, it’s really that bad. I tell him, “It’s as though you want me to fail. You’re enabling me. You’re an enabler.”
He tells me that’s nonsense. There would be no reason for him to want me to fail. I just have no…willpower…and I’m trying to make it his fault.
WHAT?!! I have no willpower?!!!
He tells me that he doesn’t think I want to succeed as a writer. Or that I really want to lose those 120 extra pounds. If I did, there would be no excuses. I’d just do it.
No willpower, huh? IT IS SO ON…like, like…not Donkey Kong. I want to say Donkey Kong, but I’m not going to because…THIS IS SO MUCH MORE SERIOUS. HE HAS CHALLENGED MY INTEGRITY AND INTENTIONS AND I. AM. SO. GOING. TO. MAKE. HIM. EAT. HIS. WORDS!
Today is August 5, 2015. So over the next year, this is my challenge:
- I have to lose 120 pounds. That’s ten pounds a month over the next twelve months. I have to weigh in at 120 pounds on August 5, 2016. That’s exactly one half of my current body weight.
- I also have to have made at least $75,000 through my writing endeavors as of August 5, 2016.
- Failure is not an option.
My every day goals are to:
- write ten pages of my book.
- work on my blog with at least two new posts a week.
- submit a new story or article for publication every Friday.
- update you every week with a status on my challenges.
- eat lean.
- drink 5 bottles of water/day.
- log my food and drink intake.
- exercise: treadmill, 30-45 minutes.
- sit ups: 30/day.
- stretches and calisthenics.
- weights: 3 times/week.
- go cold turkey on the cokes.
I hope those of you out there who read this will encourage me and be a source of inspiration and strength, especially when it all gets too much.
God, I’d kill for a coke right now!