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Exercise, healthy and beauty, How To, humor, new years resolutions, self-help

Morning Routine: Phase One

A.K.A.

      PHASE: PLEASE SHOOT ME.

Okay, okay, let’s get to it.  If you have ever tried to implement a new routine for yourself then you totally understand todays post. Now that winter is in full swing, the “new year, new me” hashtag in underway… it’s time for me to get back on that pony express and ride into the sunrise. Huh? I don’t know. But, what I do know is that getting into a new, or in this case, old routine that I had running before summer vacation is not an easy task. Blah.

pexels-photo-1037993.jpegI have begun by setting my alarm (AGAIN) for 4:40 AM months ago. Holy – too early – batman! I know, it’s early but it works. I don’t know why 4:40 is my time to wake but; it just is, and what’s even weirder is I usually get up before my alarm, rising to the the tune of 4:39. 4:17. Or even 3:53. It’s not natural. It’s weird. Totally. I get it, but like I said, it works for me. Cuckoo.

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After I’ve set my alarm for this – godforsaken – time, I have set a series of alarms to keep my morning in check. Now, it’s a work in progress as I have been at this for a few months now since last summer’s end. It’s so easy to get sidetracked in the morning… if you allow it. You totally allow it. I totally do.

Photo Jan 14, 3 36 56 AM.jpgAs free-spirited as I appear to be, I am actually extremely regimented and right down to the incremental minutes of my day. You’d think this would make me cranky if I don’t make a certain task or follow my alarm schedule but really I’m so much more cheerful, helpful and have more inner peace… Like, maybe that’s when my free-spirit-ness kicks in? Hmmm…. Even if I only accomplish one task, I’m cool with it. Like waking up? Yes. Like waking up. Routine is good, people.

Scheduled creativity? Yup. It’s a thing!

This morning; however, or rather the past few days, I have been rather sluggish. Non-motivated. I guess it happen to everyone. Let’s give a quick run down on my mishaps this week to put it in perspective.  Let’s start with the 2-a-day’s at the gym. I’ve totally upped my game on every aspect of my life and I’m feeling the lag. I hopped on the treadmill this morning and fell off. Hold on. What?

Takeya USA

Yup! Just, whoop…. slide. Kerplunk! Right off the back of that moving death machine. I’m IMG_0618.jpg
not even sure how that happens. No one else does either. Regardless. My body must’ve been signaled from the brain that day… not today sloth. Not today.

I attempted to read my third book (Yay!) of the year and it was moving the words around on the page. Boo. Not kidding. It was messing with me. It even hid itself from me. How does a book play hide and seek? Good question! When you find out the answer, tell my lost book, it’s time to give it up and show itself.

My back-to-basics boring food hauls. Well, those are just boring. Not much to report on plain rice and egg whites. Fermented probiotic drinks. Protein bars. Vegetables. Boring. Boring. And more boring. But food is fuel… blah, blah, blah. I know.

nail polish

Sitting at my desk to get work done? That kink in my neck creeps up again…. *shakes head, don’t get me started 

Photo Jan 14, 3 31 45 AM.jpgAnyway, I think you get the idea and then, boom! The morning routine I so meticulously orchestrated has fallen to the wayside. I’m now finding myself saying, my body needs to recoup-hit the snooze button. I’ll push my appointments a couple hours-it’ll be fine. Gosh, where are my favorite high heels I like to wear? I donated them? Why the hell did I do that-I loved those things. *remembers aggressive decluttering mission of November 2018

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Damn it.

You’re rambling and way off track. I know.

Just like phase one of that morning routine.

Exercise, fashion, healthy and beauty, humor, new years resolutions, self-help

Pleather Sausage Pants

You ever own a pair of pants? Yespexels-photo-461646.jpeg

That you freaking LOVE?! Yes.

Only to find that said pants you are loving…

Don’t love you back? OMG YES.

Well, this is my black pleather pants I bought last year. Wait. They are gorgeous. Hold on. They are high waisted. Pleather? Oh! Yes, they are plastic leather. Huh? Meaning, they look like some kind of leather; but they aren’t.

Ah! Got it… Carry on.

Anyway, they are skinny style in the leg. And therein lay the problem. My legs aren’t playing nice with the damn stretchy plastic. Oooo, nasty visual there. Right!  My thighs fight them when they’re pulled up. My hips are pushing them off. The waistband has this massive extra space that I could smuggle a large book in between the fabric where my stomach should be. My inner squish is slapping together when I walk, causing an annoying squeaking sound. They’re not even patent leather! How the hell are they squeaking?!

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You see, last year, when I got them, they fit amazingly.  So much so, that I wanted to wear those damn pants  every day! You so would. I totally would.  But let’s face it, you can’t wear leather pants to church, or to the gym, or an animal park. An animal park? Well, maybe I could. And maybe you’d look like a solid, tasty lunch for a predator. Okay. Not the zoo then. While, my weight has toggled a bit this last six-eight months, my physical appearance hasn’t been too gnarly.

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SIDEBAR: this has also been a point of contention for me too. So much so, I had to add a weight loss goal to my annual goal setting resolutions this new year. So sad about that.

Ish, happens. *shrugs

pexels-photo-1040532.jpegMoving on, I’ve also washed these pleggings a couple times and I’m wondering if the shape of the pants themselves had been altered due to that. *fingers crossed, please. Please. Please. Please.

Damn those household chores all to hell. Especially you, laundry. Boo to you. Boo!

And so it begins… the tale of the plastic leather, pleather pleggings. Here’s the plan. I am going to try them on again in February. Oh no, not another plan. Lord help us all if these bastards don’t fit. I’ve been hitting the gym 6 days a week, living on dry toast and rice, and drinking enough water for a buffalo herd.

Which is about the size I’m feeling about now. So it’s fitting!

No, it’s not fitting. The mock-trousers aren’t fitting at all. That’s the problem!

You’ll show them.

No britches are going to beat me. That’s right. *nods in affirmation

Go get ’em, sausage girl!

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house and home, humor, relationships, sleep

Pillow Fight Survival Games

COME ONE! COME ALL!

AND WELCOME TO THE PILLOW FIGHT SURVIVAL GAMES!

The what? Quiet… Just listen.IMG_0465

For some reason, I have been kicking off the bed sheets at night and as of this morning, I woke up to every pillow on the floor. And all the sheets on the other side of the bed and/or the floor. Okay… The rumor is that I’m having night terrors in my sleep but if that was the case, wouldn’t the hot guy next to me be waking up with a black eye and bruises?

Is he?

No. He is not.

IMG_0439.jpgActually… I think he’s finding this whole – throw every linen off the bed – thing, hysterically funny.

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I got up this morning like I normally do, got the morning routine knocked out, etc. The next thing I know, 7 AM rolls around, the sun is up… and I’m seething in pain! Now, I don’t know if that means I overdid it editing for 8 hours yesterday, and then hitting the computer desk again for another few hours of busy work this morning; (or your killer workout for that upper body on Saturday…) But, I’m feeling quite certain that it was the no-pillow having mattress I woke up to this morning. Wait, what?

Takeya USA

Look. Waking up with his arm in my neck isn’t exactly ideal. And a stiff neck due to pillow deprivation was not how I preferred to execute my daily activities. I am  definitely a believer that this is an open and shut case of the neck hook sleeper monster. Huh? Oh yeah, definitely that. True story. No it’s not. You got me. I made up the monster. I figured. More on that in another post! Please don’t. Oh… it’s done. *sigh

Spooning is literally the best sleeping position ever. Why it’s called the fetal position when you sleep alone and only when a secondary person sleeps next you is it called spooning, is beyond me. I think it should be called FPsquared.  A quandary. Indeed.

FiveStar

Not really.

Oh,

Anyhow, superman is so much bigger than me that I am like a baby joey in the front pocket of a kangaroo, except with a large arm that falls literally right in the crick of my neck. Literally… and figuratively. Just kidding. He’s not a pain in my arse all the time.

Bugatchi 1600x300

*looks around the room for a witness to me notating air quotes on “all the time.”

Circling back, I mapped out a game plan to retain my body pillow in close proximity of my blanket and now pillow thief. Here it is:

  1. Build a pillow wall in the middle of the bed with the extra, unused puff comfy’s that usually sit on the floor at night.
  2. Hug as tightly as possible to my body pillow – and blankets – as squishy tight as possible. Resistance is futile. Right.
  3. Swat away any sneaky, unsuspecting large man arms from turning my comfort zone into a pillow fight war zone. How? I don’t know… fly swatter? Cookie bait on the nightstand? That might work.
  4. There is no number four. That’s all I got for ideas. Then why do you have it written down? Just in case something comes to mind before I post. *slaps forehead

BOOMIMG_0283.jpg

BEGIN IMPLEMENTATION SEQUENCE TONIGHT.

T-minus 1200 hours. Stop it.

T-minus some amount of hours closing in til’ bedtime. Knock it off. 

Fine. Anyway, I think I’ve been watching too many sci-fi movies lately. You have. 

So what if he seizes all the cushions and quilts tonight? I’m glad you asked… I do have an alternate scheme in order to retain my bedding on my side.

Well, what is it? 

Ready? Oh geez, get on with it. Okay here it goes…

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PILLOW FIGHT

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Stay hydrated!