I took a hot bath earlier, which I do in order to relax and meditate a bit, usually, but it didn't work very well this time. I was lying there with my mind unable to shut off, full of negative things I did not do, people I have not called, projects left unfinished, and the unending, pounding like a jackhammer, f*ckingc*cksuckingWON'TSHUTUPALREADY negative body image!!
Earlier I had started slow-cooking ribs in the Dutch oven, which was good. It forced me to not stay in the tub longer than about a half hour, and limited the time that I could stew in the negativity.
No one wants to hear my crap, because it's self-centered, not to mention complete bullshit. I get into it myself because of my fears, usually my fear of rejection. I don't ask for what I want and then I wonder why I don't get it. Why haven't I asked ___ to play with me again? -- I'm worried about this tiny fucking weight gain! Who cares if I put on a few pounds? Are people going to be running from me in horror? No! Weight doesn't matter. Do I not play with a favorite player because he gained weight? Of course not.
I admit that sometimes I DO ask for what I want and DON'T get it, but that's a small percentage of the time. Just as often I do get what I want, but then I get greedy and insatiable and I want more ... more ... and more often.
Beyond the body image, there is this negativity about my behavior. What kind of a friend am I? I owe L. a phone call for her birthday, because I forgot her birthday card (sorry, L. You know I love you; hope you like the gift!). I have to return C.'s phone call. I have to text back my brother.
At least I bought cards for T. and G.'s birthdays. And I called R. a few times. Progress, not perfection. I just don't like using the telephone, and I gotta work on that, because sometimes, I just gotta use the telephone.
Anyway, I've decided that tomorrow night is going to be fabulous. Anyone who follows me on Twitter (You ARE following me, right?) knows that I'm trying to get people to bring chocolate-covered and regular Peeps to OTK night. I haven't actually talked to Michael, the owner of Paddles NYC, about this, but I'm sure he doesn't mind that I'm calling it "Peep Night at Paddles."
This means nothing; there is NO spanking or sexual meaning behind any of it; I just like being goofy sometimes. I think I get it from my mom, who has never stopped being a kid and always liked to play.
And I need to play. Big Time.