The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly
Yesterday was an interesting day. A rollercoaster of emotions, news, activities. I've realized that when something good happens to me, something bad related to it often accompanies it. Or at least something unrelatedly bad will follow later that day. I wonder if this is just how I'm interpreting the situation - instead of just focusing on the positive, I insist on rummaging through it until I have found a flipside negative. I hope this is not the case. For as you know, I'm trying to be more positive lately (shout out red beads). To this effort, I am trying to pause and appreciate the good things that happened yesterday. More than one good thing happened - for me, the expression "when it rains, it pours" refers to both good and bad things that happen to me - good things and bad things usually come in groups of three, sometimes two. Let's just put it this way: Wednesday, January 4th started off as an ordinary day and by the time I went to bed, things were new, different, and itchy. See for yourself.
THE GOOD
I am officially promoted! I have not been anyone else's assistant for about two months now, but because I work for a giant corporation that is held together by a red tape extravaganza, it wasn't official (at least money-wise) until yesterday. Woo hoo! I'm promoted, I'm the coordinator of the entire department, making some more dough, with an official title, wait...what's that you say, no more overtime pay?! FUCK.
THE BAD
I've been waiting for this day. I know that in a way, it's a sign of growing up - not being paid by the hour/having a set yearly salary - but I lurved it and I will miss it greatly. Pyschologically, it's so much easier to stay late and work long days knowing that every hour that ticks by is s'more five dollar bills (my favorite) in my pocket. Is this me searching for the negative? I mean, I did get a raise, so I should technically be making more than I was making before even with overtime, but I don't trust the system. The man. The taxes. I want my overtime back! I always work such long days (not really), and never surf the internet (hee), and never blog at work (must be something wrong with the blog clock). This is a typical case of Mo Money, Mo Problems - the problem being that I cannot just be happy about my promotion and let the rest work itself out. I blame my Grandma on my Dad's side, Grandma Ettie, because apparently I at least partially inherited my nervous/negative/worrier mentality from her. Oh, and I also have a penchant for placing blame (more of that later).
THE GOOD
I'm going to LA next week! Yesterday I was informed that I will be going on my second ever business trip. I really am all growned up (nope). It's a short trip (3 days, 2 nights) and I will be working nonstop but it should be fun. I'm staying at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel (home to a very trendy pool and you can bet good money that if I have time, I will search for Gyllenhaal whilst attempting to not scare him with my paleness). I'm very excited for the trip and happy to have the opportunity, but of course, because I'm me, I immediately thought of what I'm missing when I'm out there.
THE BAD
The premiere screening/party of our new show (the one that rhymes with bustle) is in New York on Monday night, aka the first night I'm in LA. Of all the Mondays to have a conflict, this Monday is it. I know what you're thinking, I too want to tell myself, "myself, shut up and just be happy that you're going to LA" but I was really excited for this premiere and party - I was going to get to mingle and hobnob with the cast and show my co-workers that I really do get drunk after 2.5 drinks (the all-staff meeting in October WAS an aberration). I know this is a retarded way of thinking - I could be missing it because of something bad, instead it's something great. But the point of this post is to convey the ups and (arguably pathetic) downs of my day yesterday and it really did feel like a see-saw, with me on one end and on the other end was a rotation of Star Jones and Nicole Ritchie.
THE GOOD/THE BAD
I'm going out of chronological order, skipping to dinner, so I can save "the ugly" for last. Last night I met a friend at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central for dinner. The location was more to do with finding a convenient location for both of us because even though I love the Oyster Bar, it's pretty pricey and we all know that I need to save my unovertimed doubloons. The Oyster Bar has one of those gigantor menus which cause me to freeze up and stutter and I ended up choking and ordering a friggin' lobster. I think it's possible that I've never had lobster not in the presence of my parents. I think this because I didn't know, until it was on the plate set in front of me, that a 1 lb. lobster is SMALL. And this tiny lobster, not much bigger than one of my hands, cost me 26 bucks! The best moment may have been before I ordered it, when I asked the waitress what it came with and she said, "boiled potatoes...and...butter" which struck me as very funny, that she counted butter as like, a side. And boiled potatoes sounds like something out of the olden days, like what the boys ate in between shifts in "Newsies." Anyways, the little fellow was delicious (earning a spot on the GOOD side) but I was still hungry after eating every morsel I could find (the BAD) besides the green stuff and the hard shell. I'm all for treating myself to a nice dinner, but for $26, I expect to at least be full, or have leftovers, or be with a boy who is paying for me.
THE UGLY
I confess, I had a New Year's resolution. My resolution was to run on the treadmill at the gym. I'm more of an elliptical person, but even though I think it's good for me, I think the elliptical is just maintaining my current form, not improving on it. Thing is, I hate running. I always have. Intense anxiety used to grip me before every single 2.5 mile run during soccer pre-season in high school. I used to play sports all the time so obviously I did a lot of running in games and practice, but running by itself, I've always avoided it like the plague, or marzipan. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I stated my New Year's resolution in the past tense, because after last night, I'm just not sure it's possible.
I arrived at the gym in run mode. I made a great running playlist for my iPod. I psyched myself up, got on the machine, walked fast for five minutes, and then I took off running. At first, everything was fine. I noticed that certain muscles seemed to be squeaking, like they were being reborn, but I was feeling good. And then I started to itch. And the memory flooded back to me. Exactly a year ago, when I joined the gym, I got on the treadmill next to my roommate, and attempted to run. I honestly don't know if it's a body temperature thing or if it's just sadly pyschological, but a couple minutes into my run (both last year, and last night), my body started to itch. My stomach, my legs - itch city. And in case you couldn't make the leap, let me tell you, it's hard to scratch and run, not to mention - embarrassing. Well, I was somewhat embarrassed at first, trying to see if the people waiting on line for the treadmills could see me, but the embarrassment really kicked up a notch when in the midst of my panicked itching, my iPod hit the deck and traveled right off the end of the treadmill. A kind girl picked it up and handed it to me. I decided to be strong, fight through it, KEEP RUNNING. But the itching didn't stop. I tried slowing down to a fast walk, to take a break, but the damage was already done. Itch, scratch, walk. I continued and then reminded myself that I am resilient (really?), run again I commanded myself. So I started to run again. But I guess I scratched an itch, because my iPod went flailing off the machine again. And this time, the previously kind girl just turned away, as if in acknowledgment of her impatience with the spazzy freakshow failing in her attempt to run on a machine that many, perfectly normal people, were waiting to use.
I really do not know what's wrong with me. Although I'd like to note that my Mom (here comes the blame) said that this has happened to her on the treadmill as well. But it just doesn't make sense. I work out a lot, I play squash, why can't I run?! I don't want to break my resolution already, but I'm scared to try again. I guess I'll take it slow and try to run in tiny 1 lb.-lobster size intervals. I hope I'm not allergic to running on the treadmill because then I'll have to find another way to get in better shape and I'll have wasted my running playlist - it will stare at me like those phone numbers in your cell phone that you really should have erased already.
Maybe I'm allergic to my own adrenaline. Yesterday was a full day filled with big moments and changes. And I tried to channel all of that into motivation for running, but that sho did backfire. Perhaps my body is punishing me. Here I am trying to run, to be positive, to purge the negativity, but maybe I'm not working hard enough. So instead, my body turned the negativity, the inability to just be happy about something and not complain about the imperfect things, into itchy physical torture. I guess I'm a work in progress, mind and body.
THE GOOD
I am officially promoted! I have not been anyone else's assistant for about two months now, but because I work for a giant corporation that is held together by a red tape extravaganza, it wasn't official (at least money-wise) until yesterday. Woo hoo! I'm promoted, I'm the coordinator of the entire department, making some more dough, with an official title, wait...what's that you say, no more overtime pay?! FUCK.
THE BAD
I've been waiting for this day. I know that in a way, it's a sign of growing up - not being paid by the hour/having a set yearly salary - but I lurved it and I will miss it greatly. Pyschologically, it's so much easier to stay late and work long days knowing that every hour that ticks by is s'more five dollar bills (my favorite) in my pocket. Is this me searching for the negative? I mean, I did get a raise, so I should technically be making more than I was making before even with overtime, but I don't trust the system. The man. The taxes. I want my overtime back! I always work such long days (not really), and never surf the internet (hee), and never blog at work (must be something wrong with the blog clock). This is a typical case of Mo Money, Mo Problems - the problem being that I cannot just be happy about my promotion and let the rest work itself out. I blame my Grandma on my Dad's side, Grandma Ettie, because apparently I at least partially inherited my nervous/negative/worrier mentality from her. Oh, and I also have a penchant for placing blame (more of that later).
THE GOOD
I'm going to LA next week! Yesterday I was informed that I will be going on my second ever business trip. I really am all growned up (nope). It's a short trip (3 days, 2 nights) and I will be working nonstop but it should be fun. I'm staying at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel (home to a very trendy pool and you can bet good money that if I have time, I will search for Gyllenhaal whilst attempting to not scare him with my paleness). I'm very excited for the trip and happy to have the opportunity, but of course, because I'm me, I immediately thought of what I'm missing when I'm out there.
THE BAD
The premiere screening/party of our new show (the one that rhymes with bustle) is in New York on Monday night, aka the first night I'm in LA. Of all the Mondays to have a conflict, this Monday is it. I know what you're thinking, I too want to tell myself, "myself, shut up and just be happy that you're going to LA" but I was really excited for this premiere and party - I was going to get to mingle and hobnob with the cast and show my co-workers that I really do get drunk after 2.5 drinks (the all-staff meeting in October WAS an aberration). I know this is a retarded way of thinking - I could be missing it because of something bad, instead it's something great. But the point of this post is to convey the ups and (arguably pathetic) downs of my day yesterday and it really did feel like a see-saw, with me on one end and on the other end was a rotation of Star Jones and Nicole Ritchie.
THE GOOD/THE BAD
I'm going out of chronological order, skipping to dinner, so I can save "the ugly" for last. Last night I met a friend at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central for dinner. The location was more to do with finding a convenient location for both of us because even though I love the Oyster Bar, it's pretty pricey and we all know that I need to save my unovertimed doubloons. The Oyster Bar has one of those gigantor menus which cause me to freeze up and stutter and I ended up choking and ordering a friggin' lobster. I think it's possible that I've never had lobster not in the presence of my parents. I think this because I didn't know, until it was on the plate set in front of me, that a 1 lb. lobster is SMALL. And this tiny lobster, not much bigger than one of my hands, cost me 26 bucks! The best moment may have been before I ordered it, when I asked the waitress what it came with and she said, "boiled potatoes...and...butter" which struck me as very funny, that she counted butter as like, a side. And boiled potatoes sounds like something out of the olden days, like what the boys ate in between shifts in "Newsies." Anyways, the little fellow was delicious (earning a spot on the GOOD side) but I was still hungry after eating every morsel I could find (the BAD) besides the green stuff and the hard shell. I'm all for treating myself to a nice dinner, but for $26, I expect to at least be full, or have leftovers, or be with a boy who is paying for me.
THE UGLY
I confess, I had a New Year's resolution. My resolution was to run on the treadmill at the gym. I'm more of an elliptical person, but even though I think it's good for me, I think the elliptical is just maintaining my current form, not improving on it. Thing is, I hate running. I always have. Intense anxiety used to grip me before every single 2.5 mile run during soccer pre-season in high school. I used to play sports all the time so obviously I did a lot of running in games and practice, but running by itself, I've always avoided it like the plague, or marzipan. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I stated my New Year's resolution in the past tense, because after last night, I'm just not sure it's possible.
I arrived at the gym in run mode. I made a great running playlist for my iPod. I psyched myself up, got on the machine, walked fast for five minutes, and then I took off running. At first, everything was fine. I noticed that certain muscles seemed to be squeaking, like they were being reborn, but I was feeling good. And then I started to itch. And the memory flooded back to me. Exactly a year ago, when I joined the gym, I got on the treadmill next to my roommate, and attempted to run. I honestly don't know if it's a body temperature thing or if it's just sadly pyschological, but a couple minutes into my run (both last year, and last night), my body started to itch. My stomach, my legs - itch city. And in case you couldn't make the leap, let me tell you, it's hard to scratch and run, not to mention - embarrassing. Well, I was somewhat embarrassed at first, trying to see if the people waiting on line for the treadmills could see me, but the embarrassment really kicked up a notch when in the midst of my panicked itching, my iPod hit the deck and traveled right off the end of the treadmill. A kind girl picked it up and handed it to me. I decided to be strong, fight through it, KEEP RUNNING. But the itching didn't stop. I tried slowing down to a fast walk, to take a break, but the damage was already done. Itch, scratch, walk. I continued and then reminded myself that I am resilient (really?), run again I commanded myself. So I started to run again. But I guess I scratched an itch, because my iPod went flailing off the machine again. And this time, the previously kind girl just turned away, as if in acknowledgment of her impatience with the spazzy freakshow failing in her attempt to run on a machine that many, perfectly normal people, were waiting to use.
I really do not know what's wrong with me. Although I'd like to note that my Mom (here comes the blame) said that this has happened to her on the treadmill as well. But it just doesn't make sense. I work out a lot, I play squash, why can't I run?! I don't want to break my resolution already, but I'm scared to try again. I guess I'll take it slow and try to run in tiny 1 lb.-lobster size intervals. I hope I'm not allergic to running on the treadmill because then I'll have to find another way to get in better shape and I'll have wasted my running playlist - it will stare at me like those phone numbers in your cell phone that you really should have erased already.
Maybe I'm allergic to my own adrenaline. Yesterday was a full day filled with big moments and changes. And I tried to channel all of that into motivation for running, but that sho did backfire. Perhaps my body is punishing me. Here I am trying to run, to be positive, to purge the negativity, but maybe I'm not working hard enough. So instead, my body turned the negativity, the inability to just be happy about something and not complain about the imperfect things, into itchy physical torture. I guess I'm a work in progress, mind and body.
posted by Susan Goldberg at 1:17 PM
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