“Sick, Sick, Sick,” or “Why I haven’t written dick-all in a week”

I’m home today, sitting in the library with a kitty on my lap, and the lap dog taking up the majority of the floor.

Mrs. Wesley had been out of commission Tuesday and Wednesday with the Crud, and now I’ve got it. Coughing, hacking, sniffles. The whole nine. And I’ve completely lost my voice. Like, the only sound I can get to come out above a whisper is when I’m wheezing or hacking up a furball.

I would have written my 1,000 words Tuesday, but Mrs. Wesley needed to be cuddled, and therefore we watched the remainder of LOST Season 2 on DVD.

I would have written my 1,000 words yesterday, but, quite honestly, I was already sickipoo and vegged in front of the TV while Mrs. Wesley needed to use the computer anyway. I think I went to bed at 9PM.

Ironically, I may very well write my 1,000 words today, when I’m sick as a dog. There are some things I really want to get down in response to the book I read (and mostly completed) this weekend: a collection of Max Brand’s (mostly) non-western short stories. Like how most of them are built around just five scenes, or how strong his female characters are. I mean, almost all of the stories I read were from 1934-1936, and they were GOOD. Well-plotted, well-paced… well-written stories with well-drawn characters.

It’s a shame that Mr. Faust hated them so much. He may not have been a great poet, but he was a fine writer.

1,000 Words: The Coyotes of Silver Moon

Got my swiss ball all inflated and am just raring to go here. Would have been working on this earlier, but Carrie called me out to mow the lawn as soon as we got home because we really don’t need more chores on Saturday, and it may very well rain tomorrow. Plus, I want to go to CABS (that’s the Columbus Area Boardgaming Society, for those in the know) tomorrow night. Whatever, I think tomorrow is going to be a good night.

Which reminds me, this thing on SparkPeople about helping you to stay motivated, one of the daily goals is to remind yourself that you’re going to have a good day today. I did it this morning, and I forgot about it. But then, I had a pretty nice day. It’ll be different if I have an absolutely horrid day, but it’s good to remind myself that I don’t necessarily have control over what is going to happen to me on any given day, but I can control how I react to it. Or if I react to it. I’m a reactionary kind of person by nature, and I am reading this book, I know I’ve mentioned it before, Unleashing the Warrior Within. It’s about focus and reaching potential. In particular, it’s about using your personal focus to reach your personal potential in whatever goals you may have. I don’t know if it really works, but the stuff it says makes sense. It was written by a Navy SEAL, and some of the things I’ve learned from it is to examine problems head on, get stuff that distracts me from my goals out of my way, if I have something that isn’t important to me, or can’t help me reach my goals, get rid of it. That was very empowering and important. And it makes a lot of sense. I learned that – what else, I learned that I can achieve more in a bad situation if I plan for it ahead of time. I can do better in a good situation the same way. Instead of focusing on everything that can go wrong, which generally leads to worry and fear and disables me from moving, anticipate what might happen and see how I can turn it to my advantage, like in job interviews, how you always practice questions you might get so you’re comfortable with your answers, so you won’t be nervous when you go in for the interview. Instead of being surprised, you can be ready and prepared, and even if you are surprised, you’ll be more apt and able to roll with the punches because you did prepare and you aren’t nervous.

Tomorrow I’m going to put it to the test when I hand over writing samples to a possible new boss unexpectedly. I’m viewing it as a mission to get in, make an impact and get out with the minimum of resistance. I’ll keep you posted.

Over half way there. I better get started on the story. I’ve kind of painted myself into a thematic corner here. This story may not last much longer, so it may time that things get a little weird and wacky. May be time to bring in that man with a gun, you know?

Okay, to sum up where we’ve gone thus far and where we are now; Coyotes are terrorizing the small town of Silver Moon, South Dakota in the years leading up to Custer’s last stand (REMINDER: CHECK OUT CUSTER’S LAST—forget it, do it now. I’ll be back.

–George. General George A. Custer.

My Swiss ball feels decidedly lopsided. That may be bad.

When John Fulton discovers that his young son Roswell has become a were-coyote (as it were, no pun intended, but certainly enjoyed) himself, he and another of his sons, Custer head out to a local tribe of Lakota Indians to see if they can do anything (you know, this now strikes me as immenently silly, a man and his son setting out alone to visit Indians they have no relationship with, without any escort at all. I may have to rethink this entire thing, honestly. Just roll with it for the time being, though). So they are traveling to this tribe, but on the way they interrupt a buffalo hunting party and Roswell is taken from them. When they reach the camp, they are given a vision that tells them of Coyote the trickster god of the Indians, and what his plan for the white man is (this also sounds silly now, considering what comes up next). Then they meet Henri and Mary Garoup. Mary is a Lakota, married Henri, who is a French Canadian trapper. They escort John and Custer from the camp, where they see the Indian who took Roswell. When they chase the Indian, they lose everything they have over the embankment of a ravine. What is not known is that Henri is really Coyote himself, toying with them.

I’m really beginning to think that I need to rethink this entire story from the ground up. Reminds me of all the false starts I had with Unlicensed Magic before I found a good direction. This isn’t the story I wanted at all. I mean, it has elements I like, and I really like the fact that Coyote is known to me, but a lot of it is based on stuff that really makes no sense whatsoever in light of a little reality. There are logic holes and the whole tone of the story isn’t what I really wanted.

Yeah, I think I’ll go back to the drawing board tomorrow. Punch it up, make it pulpy, the way I wanted to in the first place. I need this to be a ‘Weird Western.’

Well, it was a long road, but I think I’ve made progress today, even if it isn’t necessarily positive progress. Even scientists have to prove something won’t work before they find the answer they’re looking for.

A nice way to end my 1,000 words for the day.

The Cheating has commenced…

I’ve been on the program for over a week now. And I’ve been routinely suprised by how easy it is for me to hover just below my daily recommended minimum caloric intake. I figured if I just worked out regularly and kept an eye on snacking and portion control, I’d do just fine.

Last night, even after eating at Taco Bell (eating too much, I might add–I’ll have to remember that for next time), I was below my recommended minimum caloric intake, so I thought I’d help myself to a little ice cream.

And then, after Mrs. Wesley went to bed, I helped myself to a little more. I ended up having about two cups by my best guess (it’s hard to estimate when you’re eating directly from the container). And, for the first time since getting on the program, I went over my recommended MAXIMUM caloric intake.

I’m not going to beat myself up over it. Just acknowledge that this is an area of weakness and reign it in next time. With exception to this blip, the diet I’m on has been really easy to stay on. I’m not monitoring my weight just yet–I’ll wait to do that on the first of the month–but I feel like I’m losing inches, and it’s not difficult to stay within the parameters of the program.

Just another reason to STICK WITH THE PLAN.

Probably Shouldn’ta Blogged Last Night.

Yesterday I had an appointment with my chiropractor. It was the last one for a week, and now I’m phasing off the big machine that stretched your vertebrae (they say it’s a ‘decompression table,’ but I know what it really is: a medieval rack with a chrome finish).

I should have just camped out on the couch alternating between heating pads and ice pads, but I promised myself I’d write my 1,000 words, and then proceeded to hem and haw for an hour-and-a-half before I got to it, goofing around on the internet instead.

And now I’m paying for it. I could have stretched out, but I didn’t, and now my lower back is groaning. Hopefully I’ll feel better in a few hours, after I hit the gym, but I’ve got a meeting at church tonight, and I won’t be home until 9:00PM at the earliest. If I don’t feel better by THEN, I’ll HAVE to take it easy on the couch, which means I won’t be able to write at all. And THAT means I guess I’ll have to write my 1,000 here at work, and that’s NEVER fun.

Let this be a lesson to you. THIS is what happens when you deviate from the plan.

Note to Self:

Hungry-Man Jumbo Rigatoni with Meat Sauce, tastiest of the Hungry-Man family.

(And yet, not on the Swanson website. Maybe it’s being test-marketing right now.)

Back-breaking work

Reposting from my health/fitness blog over at SparkPeople. Why? Because I felt like it, that’s why.

So, yesterday Mrs. Wesley’s parents came down to help us clear out the barn. Another friend of ours also stopped by during the afternoon to help out. We did it though. Got further than either Mrs. Wesley or myself thought. Cleared out the entire first floor of the barn, including the lean-to.

Only problem was my back gave out about half-way through. I hobbled on, but I finally had to stop about 7PM, shower up, and lay on a heating pad for the rest of the day.

Of course, Mrs. Wesley didn’t stop until sundown. Outlasted everybody.

The important thing is I worked out for over five hours. (I think hauling lumber counts as a workout, don’t you?) Fortunately for me, the Fitness Tracker counts ‘farm work’ as an exercise, and chalked up 2300 calories burned.

You’d think I’d have dropped a pants size or two, which I desperately need, but no.

The best part (that’s sarcasm, folks), is that I get to do it all over again next weekend, when we clean out the SECOND story of the barn.

Yay me.

1,000 Words: The Coyotes of Silver Moon

I really don’t want to do this today. I’d like to get that right off my chest to begin with. It’s Sunday, there’s a movie I’d like to watch on TV (The Rundown, ask for it by name), my back is killing me from the barn cleaning-outing that we did yesterday, I need a nap (again because it’s Sunday), and I want a snack (see last whine).

But, no 1,000 words, no online poker. Them’s the rules. I didn’t make ‘em, I just enforce them. Well, actually, I did make them, so I guess I kinda havta sorta, you know, FOLLOW them. I’ll be the only one to follow them anyway, so I guess it’s important that SOMEBODY do it.

Can you tell I’m padding? I’m padding, because I don’t want to write. See those two parargraphs up there? That’s what we in the business call padding.

That last paragraph was, too. This one as well, for that matter.

Doggone it, if I didn’t enjoy online poker so much, we wouldn’t be having this problem, now would we?

This is not made any easier by the fact that my back is really just twisted around backwards and my knuckles are sore and swollen.

Whine whine whine. Expect a lot of that for this entry. I’ve been putting this off all morning. Didn’t even go to church today because I was too sore and Carrie worked herself sick yesterday, so she’s in bed upstairs, taking a nap.

Lucky bastard. How I envy her.

So, long story short is this: I’ve been procrastinating getting back to the Coyotes of Silver Moon all the live-long day, and I really can’t put it off any longer. Plus, since my back does bother me, I don’t want to take any longer than I humanly have to, so I doubt there will be much in the way of my internal editor getting in the way. He’s complaining too loudly about his hips and the swelling in his knuckles. I’m telling him that the less he complains, the less time this will take. The less time this takes, the sooner we can get back to doing something else, like napping or reading the new Spider-Man novel. (which reminds me, I have to develop a series of rewards for myself for losing weight, rewards for hitting each of my goals, that sort of thing. I need to talk that over with the wife when she wakes up.

Anyway, I have to establish what kinds of goals are valid and which are off-limits. Food, obviously is off-limits, as well as anything that has to do with food. “Oh, hey, I just lost 10 pounds. Only 80 more to go! That means I get a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, right?” So, I can’t reward myself with food. Also can’t reward myself with, say, going to the movies, because, at least for me, I don’t think that should count for a couple of reasons: 1) Going to the movies is something I’d do anyway, at least occaisionally. If it’s something we both want to see, like Pirates of the Caribbean, there’s a good chance we’ll see it within a week or two of release. Rewards should be something that I wouldn’t normally have.

But the thing Carrie’s going to argue about (and I know she will, because that’s what she does), is money. She’s going to say something like, “10 pounds, 10 bucks. That’s fair, right?” And, unfortunately, that’s a good point. Problem is, it’s not much of a motivator. If/when I get down to 250 and I’m really struggling, waiving a sawbuck at me isn’t exactly going to get my motor running.

I’m looking at the Heroscape game. That looks pretty darn fun, but it’s $40 bucks at most places. Not exactly cheap, but it gives me something to shoot for. But maybe I should look for something that would be more appropriate for someone who’s working out, looking to lose weight. Like a new Ironman watch. Mine hasn’t worked properly for nearly a year now. I think that’s because I kept taking it into the steam room at California Fitness (now Lifestyle Family Fitness Centers, ask for it by name). You’d think a watch named after the premiere triathlon event in the world would have a little more staying power. But, then again, what can you expect for $35? I think I can talk Carrie into letting me get another Ironman watch. It’ll help with my walks and such. I could time my walks, either up or down.

And maybe for my final reward, the one I get when I hit my goal of 200 pounds, I could get a new bike. Not that the one I have right now is bad at all. It’s just not appropriate for the kind of workouts I want to be doing. I need a street bike. Not some high performance bike that costs more than my truck—necessarily, just one that was built as a road bike. Something with a lighter, more aerodymically designed frame than the off-road Target monster Ihave right now. And my bike is fine, like I said. It’s just not of much use to me anymore. Especially sitting out there in the barn like it is now, semi-exposed as it is to the elements, it’s rusted, and there’s no good way to inflate the tires. I’d keep it in the basement, but it’s too heavy to reasonably lug up the really step cellar stairs.

So, a new watch for 10 pounds, and a new bike for 90, and Heroscape somewheres in between. Maybe.

Hey, would you look at that! I’ll have to get back to the Fulton’s tomorrow, because that’s my 1,000 words!

(Now, where did I put that link to the online poker site?)

Note to Self:

Dropping chocolate custard on your brand new yoga exercise ball is probably not the best way to start a new diet.

Note to Self

Don’t eat spicy food before going to the chiropractor (this is probably equally true for women going to their OB/Gyn).