Apathetic pathetic-ness...

A few weeks ago, I was walking out of Target and about ran into the door because it didn't automatically open for me.  Turns out I had to actually push the door to walk through it.  (What is this world coming to?)  The other day, the sink wouldn't turn on when I waved my hands under it (for a few too many seconds....we won't talk about it) for obvious reasons once I used the gift of vision I have been blessed with.  While I was at school, I tried to use my car key fob to open my locker door in the grad room.  It didn't work.  I also tried to use the spell, "accio bag" when I was laying in bed one day, because it was across the room and I didn't want to get up to get it (no, I'm really not kidding); much to my dismay, it wouldn't budge.  I forgot I didn't have a wand (silly me).

The sink is no longer visible beneath the pile of dirty dishes.  I'm behind 4 lectures in my class already, and we just started this week.  I can barely keep my eyes open.  And last, but not least, this morning, the truck parked in my driveway didn't get out of my way when I backed out of my garage.  Sigh.  Sorry Travis.
What is wrong with me???  Laziness.  Apathy.  Pathetic-ness.  Entitlement.  Lack of motivation.  Inability to attend to tasks.  Whatever you want to call it, it's all the same...well maybe not the same, but related.  Pretty soon I'll expect someone to wipe my own...nose... 
I'll be the first to admit that occasionally (and, unfortunately more often than not) I get in a funk.  You know what I mean...and if you don't, please leave.  Just...off.  Too tired to exercise, yet needing to exercise to be less tired.  Too lazy to get a bowl out when I eat my ice cream.  As Fat Bastard would say, "I eat because I'm unhappy, and I'm unhappy because I eat.  It's a vicious cycle."  (That's right.  I just quoted a Mike Myer's film.)  Tomorrow is always the day that things will change (everyday).  Sigh.

My promise of "tomorrow" finally came to pass yesterday - I finally decided to begin the process of digging myself out of my piteous state.  Volleyball practice started this week, and April and I decided we were going to do the final conditioning sprints with the girls... 

You must understand something...once we started, it was extremely imperative that we not stop.  Failure was not an option.  I mean, really, right?  Can't have 14 year old girls kicking my trash.  Oh, and I suppose I should lead by example.  Yeah.

...So.  I finally stopped coughing up my lungs last night around 9:00.  Don't you worry, though.  We won.  We rule.  I'm never doing it again.

I also got up this morning and went swimming at 5 a.m...which could be why I bludgeoned the truck to death in my driveway, but that's besides the point:  I feel better when I exercise.  I have more energy.  Doing things for myself doesn't seem like a chore.  I don't feel guilty sitting on the couch watching 3 episodes of Buffy in a row (okay, not AS guilty) because I've already exercised for the day.  I don't mind opening my own doors or turning on the sink (that's a stretch...).  I still wish I was a wizard, so we won't go there.  The laundry gets done.  I'm less cranky.  (I sincerely apologize to all those who have had the unfortunate displeasure of being near me in any capacity for the last few weeks.)  It's an uphill battle initially, but once I get into a routine, things are generally better.   A structured day = a happy, energized Dana = a more likeable Dana. 

...10 days later...

Welp.  I haven't exercised since I wrote the first part of this blog.  Blast.  Don't you worry.  I'm starting tomorrow...