I'm Sooooooo Boring

I feel like I'm getting fatter, but yesterday, a friend corrected me by calling me "thick." "There's no way anyone can call you fat," she said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe you've put on a little weight, but you look more like an hourglass than a tub o' lard."

The truth is, I am getting pudgier. My ass has grown so much that none of my jeans fit right, and my breasts have gotten so large that none of my bras (which are 36 DD)fit at all. My waistline's expanded, too. The thing is, my friend's right. I'm by no means "fat." In this obese and image-conscious society, my proportions are "average" to "healthy." I walk down the street, and men talk to me. I smile and I get anything I want. I have the nagging suspicion that I'm not hard on myself because of social standards or lack of attention. I think I'm just bored out of my mind.

A couple of days ago, I started working out again. I biked four and a half miles on the stationary bike (twenty-minute intermediate level workout), and instead of listening to music I just thought about random shit. For twenty minutes, I fantasized about how my house would look after I renovated it: adding to the front and back of the house, tearing down the garage and making a two-car two-story garage in its place, stripping the basement and making it over, putting in new windows, etc. Then, yesterday, when I exercised on the elliptical for half an hour, I imagined the trips I'd go on: backpacking and couchsurfing in Europe, taking a camel safari in the middle east, island hopping in Asia, driving an RV cross-country with my BFFs, etc. That's what gets me through my workouts: thinking about the future. And, really, that's what gets me through the day.

I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing more I can do with my life than what I'm doing at the moment. Anything more that happens is simply an extension of the motivated, responsible, artistic, eccentric person that I am now. And though I look forward to improving my station in life and experiencing more awesome adventures, none of it excites me. Everything's become more of the same.

This feeling isn't cause for concern. It's just my mind's way of making the impossible possible. If I'd have known the full depth of the risks or repercussions or uncertainty in any of my past undertakings, I'm pretty sure I would've been too afraid or too humbled to take on the venture. I have to believe that everything is small potatoes in order to accomplish anything. And while my present is zapped of excitement, I'm fairly certain that when all's said and done, I'll be thrilled to have accomplished "impossible" goals.