Vice

     Ah! I can't stop! That's the nature of vices, right? Vice is defined as "an immoral or evil habit or practice." When you look at it that way though, maybe a lot of the things we call vices aren't really vices. Maybe we're using a bit of hyperbole when we call drinking coffee a vice. IMMORAL? EVIL? Holy crap. I didn't know. I actually started this post thinking about how terrible biting my nails is and how it was a terrible vice of mine. But now I'm reconsidering because I don't classify it as immoral or evil. It's gross, but I don't think it's the main cause of my damnation to hell. Still, I need to make a better effort at not biting them. I hate that I do it but at the same time there is something oddly satisfying about it. Much like all those other immoral and evil things. Oh god, I'm doing it right now, between sentences. Stop it, stop it. When will I ever stop? Oh, it's a bait. So likely never. Great.

Sick and Tired

     I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.  I'm not actually sick, except that I'm so tired all the time, I feel like I should probably be sick.  There's no other good explanation.  I was attempting to go to bed earlier in hopes of getting more sleep and thereby not feeling so tired; it didn't work.
     It's been almost an entire 36 hours and I'd like to retract everything I said about becoming a different person.  The sentiment of it being hard is still true, but my desire to do it has seriously waned.  I think I'll still try to stop biting my nails.  And maybe I'll moisturize more.  But the rest of it is bullshit. 
     I suppose baby steps are the answer, but right now, I'm not concerned with the answer.  Also, there is a fine line between different and better.  I was careful to not say I was trying to become a better person- that's not really true.  Plus, better is relative.  In this case, different is more objective.  If there is something I was doing before, but I'm not doing it anymore, then it is different. 
     So, with the offer of a few chocolate covered pretzels and an overwhelming desire for burritos and coffee, I'm going back to my old life.  Where I wasn't sick all that often, and I was tired for a damn good reason. 

I Put Pickles on My Salad

     Trying to become a different person is hard.  I decided not too long ago that this is precisely what I wanted to do- become a different person.  Or perhaps more accurately, a different version of myself.  I don't want to be unrecognizable with a different name and personality, but I'd like to be different. 
     For example, I don't want to be a nail biter any more.  It's a disgusting habit.  It's a habit that probably started as soon as I got nails, and nothing anyone ever did deterred it.   I had sort of assumed it was a habit one grew out of, so I never tried hard to break it.  And now it is so ingrained in me that I can't stop.  Now I oscillate between not noticing it, and really enjoying it.  It's sick.   But I finally got sick and tired of having hands that looked like they belonged to an adolescent boy, so I've decided to stop.  But it's tricky to stop, because it's a habit.  A very long habit that I've spent years cultivating.  And now I want to change it.  It's hard.
      There are a handful of other things I would like to change.  My intent is to make a slow transition,  first to help the changes stick, and also, so I don't scare people I know.  I think my coworkers would freak out if I showed up on a Monday with bright white teeth, long finger nails, and slutty boots.  Well, I wouldn't wear slutty boots- it was an example used to illustrate a possible change in wardrobe.
      I like the idea of eating better too.  I don't like actually doing it though.  I'm mostly after the end results of being slimmer and feeling better in general, and regularity.  But the process can suck sometimes.  And it's how I ended up getting pickles on my salad.  We made a trek over to Subway, and I decided to be smart and get a salad.  Subway at 11am is incredibly stressful.  It became my turn and all I could say was "all the vegetables except jalapeños."   The Sandwich Artist did exactly what I asked for.  And then when I got back to office I thought about it a little more.  Pickles don't belong on a salad.  Both people I mentioned this to countered with the fact they like pickles.  Hell, I like pickles too- but not on a salad.  That's weird.
      Trying to become a different person is hard, and it's a slow process that involved paying closer attention to things.  Like when your hands are in your mouth, and when pickles are an option.