Day 67: WLB of Chimi

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I gave myself a nickname.

In the angst driven moment where I took a good hard look at Juan and realized that even I could not stand myself, I looked into the imaginary mirror of life and said the words out loud:

You are a whiny little b!+<£.

Complain, complain, complain.

I was exhausted by my complaints: too tired, too much work, not enough time, need a vacation…

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I had been on the automatic pilot of poor me for so many weeks that I just detested this person I had become.

And no, this is not a self loathing rant. Believe me when I say I have an abundance of love and admiration for myself, I simply did not like this negative air hovering around me – a cloud of doom perhaps created by me.

So last night when I got home and proceeded to work on the 'to don't' list that doesn't seem to shrink, I focused my perspective and tried to readjust my attitude.

This revelation was met with apprehension since my stomach had been holding protest vigils from earlier in the day when I decided that I should have a spicy chimichanga for lunch.

The last time I had a chimichanga, there was a restaurant named Cisco's, my friend Martha was a waitress and the amount of hairs on my head exceeded my waist size by thousands.

The chimi decision was a poor one and proved that poor nutrition can contribute to bouts of moodiness.

After a little plop-plop-fizz-fizz in the form of America’s wonder drug Alka-Seltzer, I reigned the protesters in and went about trying to embrace happy.

I whispered the words my friend Barbara had encouraged:

‘I surrender’ emanated from me almost as a plea to the universe to help me combat this nastiness in my world. I said it both out loud and to myself so many times that surely had a cop been around I would have been arrested. My surrender was to myself, to this imperfect being I had engaged in this battle against the realities of life.

I would love to say the surrender technique worked but it did nothing for me other than remind me of the whiny little b—- I had become.

I was the Whiny Little B—– from the town of Chimi, I was the duly elected Mayor in my City of Protestation and I was the President of all things negative. I had to make a choice and my choice needed to turn things around.

Ar the risk of over sharing yet again, at 3:00 AM this morning I threw up and the Chimichanga of Doom is no more. I surrendered the chimichanga.

Am I in a better mood and more positive frame of mind? Probably not, but I’m going to keep trying and enjoy the endorphins created by this beautiful Friday.

Whiny Little B—- be damned, I surrender.

(Still didn’t work).

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