I’m back home, in my own apartment, job-less yet again.
The last part sounds worse than it is. I got a summer job through a friend that was supposed to last three weeks, and I ended up staying six. But I’m set for cash the upcoming two months at least, which feels great.
But of course, after that I’m back where I began financially (or where I always am), so as of next week I’m back to writing my thesis, which has been put off for months, and looking for new employment.
I have ’til the beginning of November before I need to be really worried again, so hopefully some non-religious miracle will occur in time for my 27th birthday (yes, I am that old).
In the meantime, having a one week break where I just do less things (and this still entails writing reviews for my part-time gig, taking care of business for our housing cooperative, having a serious cleaning-dusting-sorting session, as well as fun things like catching up with my boyfriend, watching films, meeting friends and going to the gym – though I am still ambivalent about how fun I think that last one is). And I do so love being back at my place. I really really care for this flat, and the neighbourhood, and my life here.
It’s gonna be a good week. I need the rest as well as the exercise. Haven’t been to the gym in two months and to my surprise I miss it. So I went swimming first thing in the morning and though my body felt a bit too tired and out of shape compared to the last time, I still managed around half an hour of laps and it felt good.
It’s also interesting that though the last month I haven’t recorded any meals on neither paper nor on my Noom-app, what I really notice is how often I used Noom to record training sessions. From February I had at least a walking session or a gym session recorded every two days. From April to mid-June it was something almost every day. Lately it’s been nothing. It’s a bit of a letdown.
And thinking about exercise and weight, two weeks ago marked my one year anniversary of moving out of the corridor. At the time, I weighed 71.2 kg I believe. That was the height of it. At most, I usually had 69,5kg as a default weight and just kind of hovered over or under it with a kilo and a half at times.
Now, my default weight (the one the scale more often comes back to) seems to be 65,5kg or the devilish 66,6kg when I’ve been sloppy with what/how I eat.
I can feel the change though. My back hurts less, I’m less tired, my limbs feel less stiff and heavy. It’s not that I’ve ever been that big, though it should be mentioned that 71kg for someone who’s 160cm isn’t that healthy, and on me personally not that attractive either, but I am still too soft. My overweight, as always, comes from excess fat, not muscle, and this softness is just gonna be unwanted padding I drag around with me for no reason at all, so I have to keep working on it.
This summer I got down to under 65 though that didn’t last long. Yet, I feel very, very positive. Perhaps the times they are a-changing. Bit by bit, at least.
Put The Cookie Down! 