31.

I'm 31 now. Thirty fucking ONE.

Let's talk about 30x30 shall we?

1. Meet with my people. Not like Jesus, but more like my fellow bloggers... maybe even smoosh cheeks European style with the ones I put up on a pedestal. Met the Bloggess 5/16
2. Run 40k by 32nd Birthday. (Currently at 21.6: Color Run 2012 5k, All Aboard for a Cure 2012 1 Mile/1.6k, Hot Chocolate Run 2012 5k, Diva Dash 2013 5k, Color Run 2013 5k)
3. Get back into a career style job. May 21st 2012
4. Move out of the basement. June 22nd 2012
5. Take the kids to the beach, any coast will do. May 25th 2013
6. Really celebrate my marriage and relationship with my best friend, i.e. family might need to avert their eyes.
7. Pilgrim back to the Drepung Loseling Monestary in it's new (to me) location.
8. Yoga. And YES, M.... I'm going to need your help on this one because this one is inspired by YOU.
9. Read 30 novels. (1, Jenny Lawson's "Let's Pretend This Never Happened." 2, Rebecca Woolf's "Rockabye.")
10. Lose 30 MORE pounds. (Update, I've slipped. Big time. See more below.)
11. Quit smoking.
12. Spend more time in my craft room and less time in the kitchen. (Seeing as how I've got no craft room currently, I'm going to have to find some other outlet. Again... see below.)

 WTF IS THIS SHIT??!?!

Oh yes, let's talk about my inherent lack of control when it comes to pretty much anything and everything edible within reach of me as of employment a freaking year ago. Who knew a job where I spend half of my time on my ASS in front of computer would wear me out and depress me so? I spend so much time doing absolutely nothing. Both at home and at work. I mean, I get my job done and I do a damn good job doing so... but... when I'm home? I nap. I use what time I could be bettering myself physically, and eat. Pretty much whatever I can lay my freshly manicured hands on. There's been no motivation, no want or yearning to run or do yoga. I contemplate getting up early and walking the community, maybe picking up some trash, and then when all three of my alarms go off? I wake up to the very last one and end up rushing to get to work on time between feeding children, myself, and making myself semi-presentable. 20 pounds ago I wanted to get up early. I wanted to put on my makeup. I wanted to straighten my hair and look NICE. Because I felt NICE. And for whatever reason, now? I feel disgusting, inside and out. I don't feel worth the time or effort for these things. I know I am, but that little stupid voice in the back of my head tells me otherwise. Time to shut that Bitch up.

Y'all? This is bull shit. This is stopping. TODAY. I see that 240 and even though I've gained 20, I'm going to lose 30. And when I lose 30? I'm going to lose another 10 BECAUSE I'M FUCKING WORTH IT.

End rant.