Centered.

I've started this entry about three times thinking I'll come up with something clever to say, but I've just ended up deleting every one. I was going to talk about my weekend, but that seemed to be too boring. Then I thought I would talk about snow, but then I'll just seem desperate to make a new entry. I think, instead, I will write about Adam.

I always pictured myself ending up with someone, but I just wasn't sure if it would ever actually happen. I never had boyfriends when I was younger. Lots of male friends, yes, but I was either too awkward or we were just too good of friends for anything else to happen. I prayed every night I would find someone. Of course, in those moments, I felt like I was wasting time and that I would forever be alone. I was also very young with no real perception of how silly that notion was. I guess being raised by people like my parents didn't help any of that. They started dating in their teens, got married right out of high school and started a family a couple of years later. I just grew up thinking that's what was supposed to happen. It didn't. Then I watched as my younger sister had boyfriend after boyfriend, and I still seemed to be alone. I would have these thoughts every so often of "Maybe next year this time I will be in a serious relationship." The next year would come, and still nothing.

My mom always told me that if you want something, you just have to put it in God's hands and let Him take care of it. I would try, but I was never actually able to do it. I would still worry about it and I just couldn't let it go. There were a couple times I would meet a guy, think things were going well at first, but then I would watch as it fell apart. I finally gave up. Turns out that's the best thing that could happen.

Adam is not who I thought I would end up with, but he is everything I have ever wanted. He's reserved where I am not. He's intelligent in the areas that make my head go fuzzy. He laughs at my stupid jokes, and makes fun of my idiosyncrasies (a lot). He's caring and beautiful. He keeps me centered, and he lets me know when I'm being over-dramatic. He lets me cry when I need to, but tells me to stop when I'm going too far. He loves my family and he puts up with our dysfunction. He helps broaden my taste in music and movies (like Rocky). He tells me I'm beautiful when I first wake up. He teaches me about God. He is wonderful.

I don't worry about what will happen with us, but something tells me it's just going to work out.



Until next time...
-M.

p.s. Sorry if I made you nauseous with all of my love talk, but you're the one that decided to read it. :)

Just a Tuesday morning.

I think today shall be a mellow day. I've got some things to work on, but nothing seems to be too daunting. I like days like this. Especially when it's the beginning of the week. I don't know why, but Monday's are not the hardest day for me. That award definitely goes to Tuesday. Don't get me wrong; Monday's definitely suck. They are, however, the start of a new week, and I guess that gives me something to look forward to when that alarm goes off in the morning. Excitement! Something fun may happen this week. Now Tuesday's...they're hard. The weekend that just passed already seems so far away, and the next one doesn't look like it will ever come. By Wednesday at least you know you're half-way through the week, and Thursday, well that just means the next day is Friday! But Tuesday...

I don't know where I was going with that.

So, I had been saying for years I would actually get into the habit of working out. I would stick with it for about three days, and then I just couldn't motivate myself. Of course, then I would get upset because I didn't like the way I looked, and so on and so forth. At the beginning of January, something changed. I didn't make it my resolution or anything, because that never seems to work out. I just went and bought this workout dvd and I started doing it. The cool thing is, I found out I somewhat enjoyed it! Well, let me rephrase that...nobody really ENJOYS working out. The entire time you constantly have the thought, "Grr, I'm working out" running through your head. But I did find I didn't hate it quite as much as I used to. And more importantly, it made me FEEL good. So I kept at it. Now, I'm not going to say I worked out everyday because A) that isn't healthy and B) it would be an outright lie. If I needed a day just to rest, I would rest. But on most days, I would work out. And if I thought about taking a day off, I would usually end up feeling guilty and I would go change clothes and just go ahead and do it. It is now almost two months later, and I'm still keeping up with it. I'd like to say that I've dropped a gazillion pounds, but that's definitely not the case. I haven't weighed myself this week, but I wouldn't be surprised if the number isn't much different than last week's. It's like my mom says, though. "Never worry about the number." I've been building muscle mass, so my number isn't going to change very much. However, I physically and mentally feel so much better, and I'm proud of myself for sticking with it. I'm not going to say it isn't hard, because it's definitely one of the hardest things I've ever made myself do. Some days I even have to trick myself into doing it. But you know what? It's totally worth it because the pants I have on today used to be tight, and now they're almost to the point of falling off. :)