#10: an internal monologue on an ordinary monday
Last week while I was thinking about what I wanted to write for the next NJM post, I started to just record myself talking out loud about what I was thinking of in that moment. Rather than research a topic and write about it at length, I wondered what could come from a stream-of-consciousness type of post. This is the result.
10/2/2023
I’ve just made it home. I reach out to my friends to go on a walk. I tell them I need to move my body and that I have to stop ignoring the cue. They agree, lamenting the same. I get dressed and change into my workout clothes — a baggy t-shirt, running shorts, and sneakers. I debate between wearing crew socks or ankle socks. As cute as the crew socks are on others, I think they make my ankles look stocky.
I push the coffee table in the middle of my living room out of the way to begin some stretching. I have 15 minutes to kill, so I think to myself, “I can do some ab exercises in the meantime.” The rug we just purchased from HomeGoods is soft and new and hasn’t experienced any wear and tear. I’m leaning into a lunge while my neighbor plays Cyndi Lauper out on the patio adjacent to us. He’s been practicing guitar and getting better and better. His voice is lovely. I think about Joel’s new schedule and how I’ll have more free time than ever, now that I have opposite weekends and less time together in the evenings. “Time After Time” plays outside. I remind myself that the change is only temporary, and the time spent alone is a good thing. The lunge begins to feel uncomfortable and I need to shift. I haven’t started the ab workout.
Eleven minutes left.
I contemplated going to the gym before reaching out to my friends. Though weight training would’ve felt nice, I’m sure, and a visit to the Stairmaster would’ve been beneficial to me...I’d like human connection more. I’d like to talk about my day, see my friend’s baby, and soak up the vitamin D that my body is lacking. It’s a Monday and a new beginning and it feels like one. It feels like what I’m supposed to do on a Monday: go to work, move my body, make some food, prep for the rest of the week. A week from now I will feel completely different, maybe tired, sad, lonely, anxious. It’s cyclical and predictable. I feel both gratitude and annoyance that my body has made it so routine. So, I’m soaking in the fact that I don’t feel that way at this moment, while I can.
I move to my other leg and it doesn’t feel as easy to stretch as it once did. Flashbacks to practices in giant warehouses fashioned to train adolescents to cheer, competitively. Soft and springy tumbling mats, giant pieces of geometric foam covered in a kind of artificial plastic lining used for practicing certain stretches. Trampolines that resemble airport runways. Parts of the practice are reserved just for “conditioning,” i.e. working you out almost to the point of passing out. And stretching – so much stretching. My left side was the only side I could successfully stretch into a split. Not a right split, and definitely not a middle split. I’m still a little bit flexible on my left despite not being able to comfortably go much further than a lunge. I wonder how long it has been since I was able to.
There’s a steady hum from the AC. I hear cars outside and birds chirping. They’ve been happier lately…or is it desperation? The volume of their songs has progressed day after day. I can’t decide if that’s beautiful or a nuisance. Maybe both.
It’s my favorite part of the day in my living room, where the light streams in just slightly. I don’t have curtains in my living room and think I should. I’ve been saying this for the past two years. Maybe this weekend that will change. I slide into a child’s pose and realize that my new rug isn’t nearly as clean as I thought it was. I notice miscellaneous pieces of dust and particles and mulch and make a mental note to go over it with a vacuum later. But I like it, it’s pretty, and I’m glad it’s ours.
Eight minutes left.
The child’s pose feels like it isn’t doing much until I lean a little deeper and start to feel the tug in my shoulders. I still haven’t started the ab workout. My wrists ache as do most of my other joints and I think about the appointment I have tomorrow with my new doctor. I think about all of the things I’ll need to catch her up on. I hope she’s kind. I hope she validates my concerns. I hope she gets me. My mind grows quiet as I try to listen to what my neighbor is playing now, hoping it’s Wilco. It’s been in his rotation recently and I’ve expressed to him that it’s one of my favorite bands. It isn’t Wilco and I don’t recognize the tune, but it’s still lovely. Child’s pose has accomplished its intended purpose and I think about, once again, the ab workout I have yet to begin.
Five minutes left.
I lie on my back and start to do leg raises. I hate ab workouts. My stomach is the one area of my body that I’ve never quite felt comfortable with, no matter the stage of life I was in. No matter how “thin” I actually was. I’ve never considered myself to be thin or lean. I look at photos from my past, from my youth, and often think “Wow. I was pretty thin.” I know, at that time, I didn’t feel that way. I always had a little too much padding for comfort. My middle felt too pudgy, in desperate need of concealing. A lifetime of photos with my arms crossed in front of me, hiding what I was ashamed of. I think about how I feel about it now…not the same, not as much shame as there once was, but the core feeling is still there.
The timer stops. I let my legs drop and take a few deep breaths. My heart rate is accelerated but manageable. My friends are outside. I grab my things, open the door, and join them.
Theatre Camp on Hulu - It’s dumb and so funny. Y’all know I was a musical theatre kid, and this movie plays on musical theatre tropes in so many clever and genuinely funny ways that it’s kind of unreal. It made me feel like I was reliving my freshman year of high school all over again. Molly Gordon and Ayo Edebiri were standouts for me.
This TikTok of Larry the Cable Guy getting emotional talking while talking about getting cast as Tow Mater for Cars. I cried, too.
Tiktok failed to load.
Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser
I read SO many good posts these past few weeks, including:
- ’s post what happens when mediocrity is the goal. This quote in particular rang out to me:
To be clear, I support a healthy dose of delusion in one's work — I even think success requires it. But you have to be able to back up the delusion. Not everyone who feels like an imposter is battling a syndrome. Because if you are granted an opportunity that you haven't quite earned, the least you can do is try to become worthy of it. It’s not embarrassing to put forth an effort into something that will bear your name, voice, and image.
- ’s Enoughness, Perfection, and Not Giving a Sh*t About Eating Sugar (Potentially).
Ling Ma’s interview for The Creative Independent: On Committing to Wasting Time.Very timely for me.
The Monday Mixtape from two weeks ago which will be updated tomorrow!
Thanks for being here. I’ll see you tomorrow for the new Monday Mixtape!
-Pam
Good job tending the body ❤️