Tag Archives: rehabbing

The Desire to be Spent

It’s before 7 on a Saturday morning. The naive plan was, I’d get up and go swimming. I’m up. My body tells me I’m a fucking fool. Sleep, it says.

So, I’m going to. I’ll go back to bed in a few. And I’m all right with that.

The reality is, though, that I’m starting to realize between last night and today, just how much this not-working-out thing is killing and deadening my soul.

It’s worse than not getting laid. Far, far worse. Continue reading

On Strange Times: Our Heroine Turns The Page

Y’all needs a status report, so here’s an update on the big, bad world of Steff. :)

I’ve had the biggest roller coaster week ever and I’m still reeling. My new mattress set came yesterday and judging by the strange cohesive feeling in my body this morning, my speculation over my bed being at least 60% of my back problem might have been understating things.

I’m still swirling in a very busy world of doing this spending spree I’ve arranged for. Monday will be my visit to the furniture factory to buy a new sofa. A wealthy furniture-store-owning uncle has arranged for me to get wholesale on a handmade leather sofa, so, I’m buying something that’s way, way beyond the means of most of my friends and I, for a couple hundred more than I’d budgetted, but in 3-4 years I’ll still be able to sell it for what I’ve paid, so why the hell not? I’ll show you what I get once I decide. Think retro-hip leather with sleek straight lines, firm and no overstuffing. Rat pack and martinis. Continue reading

Good Times Ahead? Let’s Hope.

I normally write mornings, but I feel really good right now. In every sense. I want to remember it now, rather than chance it ebbs away during the night.

It’s times like these I remember why I never wanted to go to bed as a child: I was very, very scared life would go on without me. Sadly, growing up I only learned that’s exactly what it does. But I’ve learned to like that. It’s something to wake up to, isn’t it? The constant movement and shift of our little microcosms.

All is not sunshine and roses just yet, boys and girls. I still need to get a loan this week in order to make important changes in my life, but if I don’t, then at least a fairy godmother — or at least my aunt and uncle — did save me heroically with a much-needed immediate infusion. They’re awesome to the nth. They sent me a surprisingly large cheque today (four times what I asked for, double what they said they’d send), so I can pay the rent-eating monsters from the east (“landlord” type things) and maybe even get important cycling and scootering gear. I need that stuff now. Our good weather died today and fall’s forecasted to arrive with a vengeful fury sometime afore noon tomorrow.

Summer, how sweet you were. You shall be missed. But thanks for overstaying your welcome. Make a note: Come back any time.

And, my back! It’s loosening up! With the damp weather coming in, I’m coughing but it doesn’t hurt. (Astounding. You have no idea. I nearly jumped with glee when putting my jeans on didn’t make me cry out this morning. ) I’m even becoming, dare I say it? Flexible? I’m not normally the ankles-behind-the-ears type but, you know, I do yoga. I even sprang up some steps today before I stopped myself with a “Whoa, slow down, skippy!” admonishing. Walk before you run, Grasshopper.

Now, I do have this little kink in my right hip. But, hey, it’s only fitting; we already knew I had a little kink in me. It’ll settle down.

I can work again. This is good. I can produce. I like producing. Hell, I can even get crazy and live a little. Maybe even date some boys.

But most of all, I have that “I came, I saw, I kicked its ass” feeling about everything. I feel really, really good for the first time in a while. Life has tried to beat me down, and while I had some bad moments, I kept the faith over all. And look how it’s turning out.

Did I mention I’ve lost weight during all this? Shit, man. I’m wearing the Joe Boxer pajamas I bought a few years ago, and the pants that I couldn’t even pull over my thighs are eight inches loose on me. (They were about six at their best.) I haven’t weighed myself, I promised myself I’d wait until one week after my back healed. Even if I’ve lost weight, wouldn’t it be cool to get on the scale in a week or two and see an even larger number than I expect? Wicked.

I knew this would pass, but, you know, when you’re expecting to be holed up for 3 days and it turns into 31, well. It gets a little trying.

But I came. I saw. I kicked its ass. Simply put, I win. This is good. Let’s hope this continues a little longer.

After all, I know I don’t deserve it. No, I’ve earned it. And I want it now. Thanks. Got a side of fries for that?

WHEW! A Better State of the Steffs, & Schoolgirl Kilts!

Yesterday became increasingly dark for me, even though I kept my good humour alive on Twitter in an attempt to keep my mind off things, so when my aunt called me in the evening to see how I was doing, I suddenly broke into the biggest cry I’ve had in a while.

I tried to downplay my financial worries and my fears, tried to be a bit more of a “man” about things, but it didn’t work out very well. I got off the phone and literally wailed, “I want my mommy!” It wasn’t one of my finest moments.

This morning she rang me. Her and my uncle are sending me a gift of cash to tie me over, as I’ve only ever been this desperate once before. I was so relieved I flat-out bawled yet again.

But yay for me. Yay for seeing that little light in the tunnel. Yay for my back feeling a bit better. Yay for maybe turning the page on the darkest part of my recent trials. Continue reading

A Brief Bit of Reflection

[Ed Note: Just a reminder– This URL is NOT permanent; I’ll be back on www.smutandsteff.com before you know it. Do not adjust yer feeds or bookmarks.]

Adversity is like eating your vegetables; it can often be unpleasant and may even leave a bad taste in your mouth, but it makes you grow big and strong.

There’s nothing like getting interrupted on your path of positivity to a new and better you only to be thrown into a time reminiscent of the worst years of your life. A big reminder of from whence you’ve come can serve to recharge the batteries and fire up the will.

The last two weeks I’ve spent sprawled upon my back as my body rebelled against me for all the working out I’ve done this year — hours and hours of yoga, 1300+ kilometres of cycling, 40,000+ steps climbed in highrises, all since March, with much of the last three months interrupted by physical problems — have given me the opportunity to do a lot of thinking.

I’m still stuck in the whirlwind of mental processing that comes with change and turbulence for me, and while I can cut through it during a political rant, any kind of introspective writing has me hitting a lot of brick walls right now. It’s just how I roll. Continue reading