My Life Needs a Safe Word April 2, 2012Posted by jeneypeney in all growed up, insanity.
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Lately I’ve been a bit…. overwhelmed.
And I don’t mean the “Oh-Boy-Do-I-Need-A-Tall-Drink” kind of overwhelmed. Oh no-sir-ee!
I’m talking about the “For-The-Love-Of-God-Curled-Up-In-The-Corner-Of-The-Bathroom-Crying-My-Eyes-Out-And-Speaking-Gibberish” kind of overwhelmed. (Seriously, it’s bad. The Actual tried to coax me in to a better mood with The Lion King and wine and I didn’t even try to sing along.)
This? This is not normal.
You see, for as long as I can remember I have always been the kind of person that thrives when I have too much to do: sports, student government, becoming woman of the house when mom got cancer, classwork, homework, the shift to big-girl work, more sports, student managing, volunteer work, races, crafting, writing, grieving over loss of grandpa, letting baby brother move in, wedding planning, getting degree(s),
dealing with my mother, and not to mention all the everyday things between. From the time I was about 7 years old, I was an unstoppable force of Type A mania that could power through anything.
But now? I guess my ability to handle a manic life has gone the way of my metabolism and patience for citizens under the age of 18 – down the proverbial spiral.
This has happened to me once before – it was my senior year of undergrad and rather than drink myself across the stage, I decided working part-time, managing the swim and dive team, working on my thesis, taking 15 credit hours both semesters, and joining the board of governance was a good idea. Well, ladies and gentlemen… I was wrong.
I wore myself so thin, the doctors at school thought I had mono (which is pretty bad considering their answer for everything usually was, “Take this pregnancy test.”) Turns out I was just over-tired, under-fed, and over-worked. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was not going to be able to handle all the things I wanted to do. I had to deal with failing.
Funny how history repeats itself, eh?
I am now officially swallowing my pride and admitting I bit off entirely more than I could chew. My working relationships with co-workers are tolerable (at best), my passion for work is ebbing faster than the novelty of the Twilight series, my upcoming nuptials are becoming more of a cause for anxiety than excitement (it is the honeymoon yet?), and my thesis has mutated in to a kind of creepy, jerky, glowey-eyed, drooling, snarling monster with no neck that I used to firmly believe took residence in my childhood closet.
I can’t do it all. I need to use my safe word – something will need to be put on hold. And I have a feeling it’s going to have to be that monster in my closet…
Letters To Life : The “I-have-too-much-crap-going-on-right-now-to-write-anything-coherent” Edition March 28, 2012Posted by jeneypeney in all growed up, grad school, in it to gym it, insanity, letters, life, weddng madness.
1 comment so far
No, I am not going to freak out over the wedding stuff you keep bringing up. I WILL freak out over you continuously telling me not to freak out.
All my love,
Please take a chill pill, woman
As much as I am looking forward to you, I need the honeymoon more.
Vegas was a better idea
I underestimated you. You are infinitely more difficult to complete when I am working full time. And planning a wedding. I concede defeat.
I’m never getting my degree
Dear grad school,
Ho-lee shit, dude.
I’m not in undergrad anymore, Toto.
Dear Calf Muscles,
Get your shit together and quit cramping up on me after a measly mile.
There are not enough bananas and pickle juice in this world
Just get your shit together.
Blogging is not productive
Hello? Is this mic on? January 24, 2012Posted by jeneypeney in a little help from my friends, bad-ass-ness, i'm a moron, in it to gym it, insanity, life, return to athleticism.
::Ahem:: Excuse me… hello? Hello?? Anyone there?
Oh! There you are! I was worried no one stuck around this place considering I’ve left it dormant for eleventy billion days.
Wait, what? You’re not one of my readers? Huh? Prince who? From Nigeria?! I didn’t know I had any relatives from Nigeria…
Anynonsense – I know I’ve neglected the blogging and social media world for entirely too long and to be completely honest, I’m not sorry about it. (Truth hurts sometimes, yo.)
Of course you are all aware of my typical “school, work, and wedding planning” excuses… While those are all fine and dandy reasons for not over-sharing my life across the internets, they’re simply not enough to really excuse this kind of hiatus.
You see, this fall I was all ready and set to go with a big return to the blogging world – then my grandfather passed away in the early hours of August 31st. Needless to say, I was devastated.
I have tried several times to write some sort of memorial post to him to kick-start myself in to blogging again, but I still cannot coherently describe how special that man
was is to me. So I’m not going to.
After my family dropped $1200 on place tickets to get from Fargo to Chicago, a very tearful and exhausting funeral, spreading ashes on our farm property, and settling back in to life, I decided I was going to participate in some sort of race before the wedding in his honor.
Thanks to my absolutely amazing Maid of Honor, I found that race.*
I would like you to please take a moment and watch this video…
This is 10 to 12 miles of running through fire, swimming through ice-cold water, scaling 12 foot walls, sprinting through electrically charged wires, and other such obstacles developed by the British Special Forces?
Why yes. As a matter of fact, I am certifiably insane.
This is, without a doubt, going to be the most physically challenging thing I have done to date. I’m sure it will out-do the team triathlon I did two summers ago by a gazillion, million points.
This is my second week of training for the challenge and I can already see a difference in myself. I have already increased weights, reps, and even my endurance.
But I still need help.
You see, Tough Mudder has joined forces with the Wounded Warrior Project and given all participants an additional challenge of raising $150 toward the charity.
(As my grandfather was a veteran of the US Army and a dedicated patriot of this country, this partnership and my participation couldn’t be any more appropriate.)
So here’s the deal… I’m going to punish my body to an extent that has never been breached before in the name of my grandfather and the man and women who serve this nation (fire, freezing water, and electricity people!)
Will you donate on behalf on me? Even just a dollar?
If your answer is yes, please go to this link. It will only take a moment of your time and I will be forever grateful!
In return, I promise I will revive this blog. I will regale you with stories of my baby brother moving in with me, adventures in learning how to properly lift with free-weights, and wedding madness!
In other words – I’m back, bitches.
* I told her if I break a limb and have to walk down the aisle, take pictures, and spend my wedding night in a cast, I’m making her wear a boot all night for shits and giggles.