I don’t exactly know what got into me this weekend. So many things I oughta/coulda been doing. Another business trip this week, this one including a presentation. So it might have been smart to be working on my slide-deck, or at least doing laundry and packing. Nope.
(Well, the laundry is in the dryer now, so that’s some small progress, I guess.)
The weekend is also a good time to be a bit more ambitious in my daily actions for the “Pleasure Project” (a.k.a. my RUHCUS). Another soak in the tub, a pedicure, or even the nice feeling of clearing all the uglies out of one of my dresser drawers. But nope.
My entire weekend agenda is pretty much summed up in three verbs: nap, read, watch TV. (1)
I suppose in some way, the luxury of napping has always been one of my main pleasure languages, so I can give myself some partial RUHCUS credit for indulging that. And I’m grateful that once I realized how completely unwilling I was to be doing office work, I allowed myself to unfold into the lazy weekend I was desiring.
I may very well be paying for that decision tomorrow, or even tonight—if anxiety and inspiration strike come 3 AM, as they are sometimes wont to do—but I’ve had plenty of weekends where I was unable to rouse myself to work and also spent the entire weekend guilting and punishing myself for that lack of motivation. That way of wasting time is so much worse than this weekend’s approach.
At least this way, I’ll go into whatever last-minute bootstrapping work is required feeling rested and rejuvenated to some degree.
I’m also giving myself a lot of credit for trying something new on the nutritional front: celery juice.
Yeah, I know: I’m always nervous about these food fads, especially the ones that carry the stench of weight-loss-hype/fatphobia about them.(2) I always wrestle with myself about how making any sort of nutritionally “virtuous” choice feels like I’m giving into the culture of fat hatred that I so desperately want to dismantle.
But I am also a believer in, and a beneficiary of, non-traditional treatments.(3) In my life, I’ve received as much healing from energetic and naturopathic techniques (sexual trauma, insomnia) as I have from allopathic western medicine (depression, Veronica). So when enough of my friends, both from Mastery and from the RED Sisterhood began sharing their positive experiences with this, I decided it was worth trying.
After all, it fits very well into my overall approach in my post-pre-diabetes-diagnosis days (4): making some additive nutritional choices that can help me lower my elevated blood sugar levels. That’s the spirit in which I started swapping in low-carb smoothies for the protein bars I’d been eating for breakfast. That’s the spirit in which I’m trying to eat salad for lunch or dinner a couple times a week. And that’s the spirit in which I’m trying this. If it does nothing more than help me wake up more alert and lessen my tendency towards heartburn (both of which are purported benefits), it will be a valuable addition to my personal pantry indeed.
I don’t have a lot to report: the juicer didn’t arrive until yesterday, so this morning was my first attempt. I can say the logistics of making the juice went super-smooth. I will also admit the logistics of drinking it were a bit more challenging: it’s not that the flavor was bad, per se, but it definitely tasted a bit odd. And my notoriously easy-to-upset stomach did feel a bit uncertain about this new type of food.
Call it an experiment in progress. And I give myself huge props
(1) I’d call it a couch potato weekend, but I’m trying to reduce starch and carbs, natch.
(2) Which is, quite frankly, all of them.
(3) After all, the idea of generational trauma was completely airy-fairy and stupid. Until it became a scientific possibility.
(4) I may just have to start calling these my “PPDD” days. Or even P²D³.
Image credit: Photo taken by the author, subject to a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International license.