January 10, 2000

In the ever-continuing saga of my quest to be buff, I hit the gym on Saturday. I worked out on the bike and the stairmaster for about 20 minutes, and then... the weights.

It just feels so cool to sit there on the weight machines lifting weights and feeling all buff. I feel so superior to the wussy people in the stairmaster room. Stairmaster, schtairmaster, I'm LIFTING WEIGHTS. I'm like Arnold Schwarzenegger and they're like Richard Simmons. I'm lifting heavy weights with all my major muscle groups, and they're, what? Working on their flabby butt muscles? I rule and they suck!

That's how it feels when I'm lifting weights, anyway. Of course, Keith and I wound up ordering two jumbo pizzas from Dominos later on in the evening, so clearly I still have some work to do on this whole fitness regimen (no, we did NOT eat them both, but Domino's was having a special, so we figured, why not? More leftovers for us).

I decided that I was going to try to cut Coke out of my diet, but now I realize that that might have been a little too far-reaching. Coke is like, the most addictive substance known to mankind, and that includes crack cocaine. (It is not a coincidence that the names of these two products are so similar.) I tried giving up Coke for about three days last week, and the blinding headaches convinced me to give up. Besides, I like caffeine. I like the rush it gives me. I like the accelerated heart rate and the feeling of alertness. I can't replicate that with orange juice. No way. Also, I'm not an afternoon coffee person. After 11 AM or so, the time for coffee is over. It's Coke time.

So, giving up Coke is not really an option. I have to try to introduce nutrition into my life in other ways. I am trying to eat more fruits and vegetables, although the fruit part is kind of difficult because of my freak boyfriend who hates all fruit. He loves vegetables, though, so I have a little baggie of crudites to take with me to work every day. I suppose that counts as nutrition, although somehow I feel as though I should be doing something more.

In non-fitness related news. I got really depressed this weekend for about two minutes (OK, maybe a little longer) because I heard the news that somebody I know is pregnant. I got all down and depressed, and for awhile I couldn't figure out why. I thought it was a Pill-inspired mood swing for awhile, but then I remembered that I quit taking the Pill this month.

Then for awhile I thought that maybe I was depressed because I heard my biological clock ticking and maybe subconsciously *I* really wanted to be pregnant. I thought about that for awhile. I mean, I do want kids someday, and I think babies are really cute and all, and sometimes I fantasize about what I would name my baby, or whatever -- but does that mean that I have to be depressed when I hear that someone ELSE is pregnant?

Then I remembered that I was only 22 years old. My biological clock isn't even going to start working for at least another five years or so. Also, Keith just got a job, and I just moved out here, and I definitely do NOT want a kid at this stage of my life. For one thing, I wouldn't be able to care for it sufficiently (due to finances, living situation, etc.), and for another, I want to live life and have fun for awhile before tying myself down to such an enormous lifetime commitment.

These are not new thoughts for me. It's something I've had worked out for a long time. So why was I depressed?

I finally realized that I felt down because the news of this person being pregnant made me feel nervous about my level of commitment in my own relationship. Before Keith got his job, he talked briefly a few times about how he wanted to get settled and stable and be able to provide for me, before we took the next step in our relationship. That sounded reasonable enough to me. I know that it's really important for Keith to be able to provide for us. I could tell that he was unhappy when he wasn't working, I think because it just felt wrong to him to be staying at home surfing the Net or making soap or whatever, while I was out working. I told him that it didn't matter to me at all, and he understood that, but it still mattered to him.

So once Keith got a job, I was sort of half-expecting him to, I don't know, bring up some relationship-related topics and discuss where things were going. Once again, this is an illustration of Why We Should Not Expect Our Significant Other To Be Psychic.

Anyway, this weekend I started feeling depressed and I brought up the subject with him. He said that first of all, he thinks that we've been making a lot of progress in our relationship and that he is really happy with how things have been going. I agreed, because I feel that way also. Then he said that he still doesn't feel really happy about his job; it's not that he's not making enough money, but the job security is just not the best. He said that it feels to him like his company is run in sort of a rinky-dink fashion, and that he'd rather feel more secure in being able to provide for a wife and eventually maybe a child, if his employers weren't so flaky.

Talking about it made me feel a lot better, mostly because I just needed reassurance from Keith that those big plans were still in our future in his mind (they definitely were in mine). So, I can wait for awhile -- did I mention that I'm only 22? -- and bide my time.

Things with Keith ARE going really well. I feel like we're settling into the relationship and getting to know each other better. I don't feel like I have to tiptoe around his feelings like I used to, and hopefully he doesn't feel that way about me. And, just in general, I couldn't have asked for a better guy to be my sweetie. Keith is just great. He's so supportive of me, and he doesn't "help out" around the house, he just does his share, and he's smart, and funny, and ...

OK, now I'm gushing, and that must mean it's time to wrap it up for today. Tune in tomorrow, Same Bat-Gushing, same Bat-Channel.

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