I feel like a lot people I know, myself included, are really quick to equate any sort of laziness or “out-of-shape-ness” to the physical.  ”Its been so long since I have _______ (insert physical activity here)” or “I really have to get in shape.”  

But it seems to me that in reaching for the easy-to-beat-yourself-up answer, not only are we perpetuating a sort of logic that keeps us feeling bad about ourselves, but it is shortchanging our real development.

I’m not an serious athlete.  I don’t have a rigorous training schedule and there’s no point in thinking that I ever will or feeling guilty about the fact that I’m not on that path.  (This is something that I have worked out for a lot of my own reasons: I have other things to do, I think gyms are kinda a scam and I don’t think that taking care of your body should be an arduous task.  Besides, the only stuff I stick to are the things I enjoy like biking around or listening to Taken By Trees why doing yoga. But I digress.)  

Why is mental or spiritual fitness generally ignored?

I think for me, aimlessly wandering the internet reading any random article I can get my hands on is a sort of my mind’s equivalent of being a couch potato.  Just because its on the New York Times doesn’t mean that it is stimulating or worthwhile.  Just because its not a gossip column doesn’t mean that I am not using it for the same reasons. I know I sometimes use the internet as a way to just totally space out (casein point: its not that pertinent that i brush-up on the childhoods of obscure serial rapists).  Its just procrastination. And not procrastination from some stupid assignment, real procrastination from doing the things that are important to me. Procrastination where the consequences are real.  

Just like sitting on the couch all day, numbing-out on the internet feels hollow and unsatisfying.  I think the key here is purpose, the great articles I read I read with purpose, the great couch potato days are the ones I spend when I really need to check-out, the great blog stalking is the stuff I do when I am really inspired by someone: before it gets stale, before it becomes another escape or way to ignore whats really nagging at me. 

I got rid of Facebook for this reason, for not liking the feeling of tuning out from myself and it is amazing how it creeps up in different ways. 

Am I the only one who thinks Lady Speed Stick works way better than Old Spice? 

Oh Regina, how right you are. Sigh.

I’ve been feeling a bit funky today and not in the Motown sense. Its cold, there is no heating in our place, the Swede is sick and in bed all the time and I had to miss yoga to do a Skype interview.  But I don’t think it is actually any of those things because not even riding my new bike helped! 

I just feel like I can’t get started: like there is also a plate to wash or I am just too tired. 

And what makes it worse is I never feel like writing anything on days like this because a list of vague complaints is not fun to read.  Am I right?  But alas, here I am.  Of course a blog can’t say everything (trust me you wouldn’t want to know it anyway). BUT I really wish I knew of more blogs that were fuller representations of the entire mood spectrum not just irony or picnicking in vintage penny loafers.  

So, in the spirit of wholeness: i am picnicking on my bed eating crackers in the same underwear I had on yesterday.  

One thing that was really nice was talking to my mom. She’s the funniest person I know and the one I want to talk to when I have pimples and haven’t showered in days (cuz its too cold to get naked, or sweat for that matter).  I think she should have her own sitcom but it would make me unspeakably jealous to see some twat play her daughter. 

I’ve thought about this a lot: what is a good marker of maturity? 

I don’t think its flossing because sometimes I have really good months for that and sometimes not-so-good ones.  And I don’t think growing up is probably so inconsistent. 

It could also be when you stop stealing your room mate’s milk because a) you don’t have a room mate anymore or b) you always have milk money and curtacy overrides laziness.  However, I know a lot of people who live alone and are not grown ups.

I’m pretty sure that for me, I’ll know I am a grown up when, at the first pang of a UTI warning sign, I schedule a doctors appointment instead of pretending to ignore it or thinking “this will go away.” As for now, I am going to go see if they sell cranberry juice in Argentina, I’ll risk a kidney infection because I’m just a kid.