Slip Slidin' Away
May. 20th, 2007 12:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Slip Slidin' Away
Slip Sliding Away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
I know a woman
Became a wife
These are the very words she uses to describe her life
She said a good day
Ain't got no rain
She said bad days one when I lie in bed
and think of things that might have been
Slip Slidin' Away
Slip Slidin' Away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
God only knows
God makes Her plan
The information's unavailable to the mortal man
We're workin' our jobs
Collect our pay
Believe we're gliding down the highway
When in fact we're slip slidin' away
Slip Slidin' Away
Slip Slidin' Away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
~Paul Simon
Above are only two of the four verses, but they're the ones I wanted to share. I don't know if I'm the only one who does this, but a song will catch my attention, be it new or one I know by heart, and I'll obsess on it for hours or days at a time. Saturday's song was Slip Slidin' Away.
There's usually a reason for each obsess even if I don't know it at the time. This one I knew right away. It's how I've felt these last weeks, months really. The nearer my destination the more I was slip slidin' away. Believed I was gliding down the highway when in fact I was slip slidin' away....
I've been slowly coming back to action on many things but two weeks in and baby steps just weren't hittin' it anymore. I snapped. It took about eleven to fifteen cycles of the song and some five replays of the same infomercial but snapped I did.
Slip Sliding Away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
I know a woman
Became a wife
These are the very words she uses to describe her life
She said a good day
Ain't got no rain
She said bad days one when I lie in bed
and think of things that might have been
Slip Slidin' Away
Slip Slidin' Away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
God only knows
God makes Her plan
The information's unavailable to the mortal man
We're workin' our jobs
Collect our pay
Believe we're gliding down the highway
When in fact we're slip slidin' away
Slip Slidin' Away
Slip Slidin' Away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
~Paul Simon
Above are only two of the four verses, but they're the ones I wanted to share. I don't know if I'm the only one who does this, but a song will catch my attention, be it new or one I know by heart, and I'll obsess on it for hours or days at a time. Saturday's song was Slip Slidin' Away.
There's usually a reason for each obsess even if I don't know it at the time. This one I knew right away. It's how I've felt these last weeks, months really. The nearer my destination the more I was slip slidin' away. Believed I was gliding down the highway when in fact I was slip slidin' away....
I've been slowly coming back to action on many things but two weeks in and baby steps just weren't hittin' it anymore. I snapped. It took about eleven to fifteen cycles of the song and some five replays of the same infomercial but snapped I did.
I needed an environment that I could get things done in and I went all whirling dervish on my tiny one bedroom apartment. The main closet got rearranged, the livingroom was entirely overhauled, the kitchen got scrubbed and four bags of garbage had to be taken out by the time I was done making space for me and what I want to get done.
I've reclaimed my workout space, and knowing that after hours of cleaning I wasn't going to want to do anything once I slept and got back up, I even used the workout space. What's that in the back? Once I slept? Why yes, that's what I said, I haven't been to sleep yet. How long does that bring my day to? Hmm...nearly twenty-four hours. What am I doing up? Well journaling for my four readers silly!
So anyway, rearranged the apartment and then went on to do upper and lower body resistance, abs, and pilates. I also actually got to use the glider that's been buried and the object of my snapping and whirling dervishness. I've been promising/threatening to create enough room for it for months now. It couldn't be used when the second computer and desk came home (yeah, I say that like its a pet or something, but as the apt is too small for pets and I have to care for my stuff, its as close as two adults with two computers in a one bedroom are going to get) and it got buried under stuff as all exercise equipment does from time to time.
It was lonely there, humiliated to have become an impromptu wardrobe for miscellaneous items. I felt bad for it. I patted it every now and again to let it know I hadn't lost any respect for it. But still I know it felt mocked every time I retrieved the balance ball from atop it to use as a chair. It wondered why it wasn't as good as the balance ball. Why did I play favorites? It was terrible.
But months stretched out and my weight bounced over the same five pounds and the glider didn't feel so bad because it realized I was neglecting my pedometer as well and all the gizmos know that the pedometer is my FAVORITE of them all. So I wasn't picking and choosing and liking some better than others. I was in fact slip slidin' away.
Well, feeling another bout of PMS coming on for a second period in the same month, I was done. I know how my eating gets out of control and how I retain enough water to make even the most dedicated pre-athlete discouraged. So I stepped up and started those baby steps. I got back to journaling everything I ate and getting my minimum step requirement. (Okay, I've been getting that for weeks, I've just been eating around it) I put in a full plan of action and started down that road to get back to where I was last year when I was so successful with my weight and with my writing. They both go hand in hand for me unfortunately or fortunate as the case may be.
Fortunate in that what is a normaly sedentary pursuit with writing in fact spurs me to greater consistancy with workouts and calorie intake. Unfortunate in that when one is smacked up it takes the other with it in a misery loving company scenario of ungodly proportions. But at least my writing lasted longer. Because I was still getting in my steps despite eating to balance them out, I was still cranking out novellas, contest entries and pages for book two. Then I took a break from writing and it all went to hell wearing gasoline panties.
I couldn't get back to writing fully because I hadn't gotten back to working out and eating like I know I should. It was only fair as it was working out and eating as I should that got me back to a place where I could write the first novel and break out into submitting places and thinking in terms of series and anthologies. But fair or not it sucked.
So here I was, the apartment to myself which meant I wasn't going to bed until the sun came up to watch over me, Paul Simon singing about my life, and infomercials mocking me. And a call to action was inevitable.
Now what you have to understand about me is that I'm an insomniac and therefore an infomercial junkie when I allow myself. I prefer to watch fitness infomercials because I like predicting the new trends and because it's free inspiration all night long. Tearful testimonials and before and after pics and folks galavanting in Hawaii, come on, if the irony would be too thick to move in, all it would be lacking is snacks to watch with.
So tonights infomercial of choice was some leg contraption. Now normally as a junkie I would be able to tell you the name, maker, model number and how many colors it comes in, but I was SO someplace else in my head. See the leg contraption is a simply little curved track you step on and the pedals slide out and in so you're working your inner and outer thighs along with your bottom and a bit of your core. The reason I kept searching it out and listing to Paul was because the exact motion and therefore the exact benefit, can be duplicated by my glider. It's actually one of the exercises that came with the routine for the glider.
One half hour after another, half paying attention, half IMing with a friend and in the back of my head I keep coming to how I could do what they're doing and have whatever results they're having if I could just get to the glider and have enough room to use it properly. Now it wasn't until three weeks in that I was going to worry about changing up my activity by adding the glider in, but I can't let the thought go. Then my buddy signs off to go to bed and suddenly it's just me and Paul and the infomercials and the glider mocking me from the half-wall that leads into the hall.
Slip Slidin' Away. Slip Slidin' Away. You know the nearer your destination the more you're slip slidin' away....
Snapped and had a full out manic episode. And I'm not even manic-depressive. I just co-opted someone else psychosis as if my own weren't enough. But it worked and I'm going to be sore as hell once I sleep and wake back up. But I'll be sore and happy.
Sore. Happy. And ready to write.
Ramble done.
~X
I've reclaimed my workout space, and knowing that after hours of cleaning I wasn't going to want to do anything once I slept and got back up, I even used the workout space. What's that in the back? Once I slept? Why yes, that's what I said, I haven't been to sleep yet. How long does that bring my day to? Hmm...nearly twenty-four hours. What am I doing up? Well journaling for my four readers silly!
So anyway, rearranged the apartment and then went on to do upper and lower body resistance, abs, and pilates. I also actually got to use the glider that's been buried and the object of my snapping and whirling dervishness. I've been promising/threatening to create enough room for it for months now. It couldn't be used when the second computer and desk came home (yeah, I say that like its a pet or something, but as the apt is too small for pets and I have to care for my stuff, its as close as two adults with two computers in a one bedroom are going to get) and it got buried under stuff as all exercise equipment does from time to time.
It was lonely there, humiliated to have become an impromptu wardrobe for miscellaneous items. I felt bad for it. I patted it every now and again to let it know I hadn't lost any respect for it. But still I know it felt mocked every time I retrieved the balance ball from atop it to use as a chair. It wondered why it wasn't as good as the balance ball. Why did I play favorites? It was terrible.
But months stretched out and my weight bounced over the same five pounds and the glider didn't feel so bad because it realized I was neglecting my pedometer as well and all the gizmos know that the pedometer is my FAVORITE of them all. So I wasn't picking and choosing and liking some better than others. I was in fact slip slidin' away.
Well, feeling another bout of PMS coming on for a second period in the same month, I was done. I know how my eating gets out of control and how I retain enough water to make even the most dedicated pre-athlete discouraged. So I stepped up and started those baby steps. I got back to journaling everything I ate and getting my minimum step requirement. (Okay, I've been getting that for weeks, I've just been eating around it) I put in a full plan of action and started down that road to get back to where I was last year when I was so successful with my weight and with my writing. They both go hand in hand for me unfortunately or fortunate as the case may be.
Fortunate in that what is a normaly sedentary pursuit with writing in fact spurs me to greater consistancy with workouts and calorie intake. Unfortunate in that when one is smacked up it takes the other with it in a misery loving company scenario of ungodly proportions. But at least my writing lasted longer. Because I was still getting in my steps despite eating to balance them out, I was still cranking out novellas, contest entries and pages for book two. Then I took a break from writing and it all went to hell wearing gasoline panties.
I couldn't get back to writing fully because I hadn't gotten back to working out and eating like I know I should. It was only fair as it was working out and eating as I should that got me back to a place where I could write the first novel and break out into submitting places and thinking in terms of series and anthologies. But fair or not it sucked.
So here I was, the apartment to myself which meant I wasn't going to bed until the sun came up to watch over me, Paul Simon singing about my life, and infomercials mocking me. And a call to action was inevitable.
Now what you have to understand about me is that I'm an insomniac and therefore an infomercial junkie when I allow myself. I prefer to watch fitness infomercials because I like predicting the new trends and because it's free inspiration all night long. Tearful testimonials and before and after pics and folks galavanting in Hawaii, come on, if the irony would be too thick to move in, all it would be lacking is snacks to watch with.
So tonights infomercial of choice was some leg contraption. Now normally as a junkie I would be able to tell you the name, maker, model number and how many colors it comes in, but I was SO someplace else in my head. See the leg contraption is a simply little curved track you step on and the pedals slide out and in so you're working your inner and outer thighs along with your bottom and a bit of your core. The reason I kept searching it out and listing to Paul was because the exact motion and therefore the exact benefit, can be duplicated by my glider. It's actually one of the exercises that came with the routine for the glider.
One half hour after another, half paying attention, half IMing with a friend and in the back of my head I keep coming to how I could do what they're doing and have whatever results they're having if I could just get to the glider and have enough room to use it properly. Now it wasn't until three weeks in that I was going to worry about changing up my activity by adding the glider in, but I can't let the thought go. Then my buddy signs off to go to bed and suddenly it's just me and Paul and the infomercials and the glider mocking me from the half-wall that leads into the hall.
Slip Slidin' Away. Slip Slidin' Away. You know the nearer your destination the more you're slip slidin' away....
Snapped and had a full out manic episode. And I'm not even manic-depressive. I just co-opted someone else psychosis as if my own weren't enough. But it worked and I'm going to be sore as hell once I sleep and wake back up. But I'll be sore and happy.
Sore. Happy. And ready to write.
Ramble done.
~X
no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 07:16 pm (UTC)LOL
And that answered my question. I was figuring you hadn't been to bed yet.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 08:08 pm (UTC)But I've broken away and will be off to bed finally. Yay bed. Mmmm, sleep. :)
Laters.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 01:26 am (UTC)And hey, we all get manic once in a while. Sometimes it's a really good thing. I got half manic on my house a couple weeks ago. Damned if it didn't peter out before I got to the bedroom and bedroom closet. But SO far I am keeping the rest pretty picked up so I won't have to start all the way over! LOL.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 03:14 am (UTC)I freely admit most of the time I can't tell if I'm simply amusing myself or taking everyone else along for the ride. :)
And manic is definitely of benefit when you get to bend it to your will. Nothing like getting all of your spring cleaning done in a twelve hour marathon and still getting in a workout and other things you need.
Now off to be sore and creative elsewhere.