thank you to ephraim, who let me use his song “neptune drive” this episode.
just a reminder to stay consistent and BE GOOD while you have to deal with the awkwardness of bad family blood and petty drama you’ve been avoiding this whole year. it’s gonna be okay.
Eyyyy I got a lot of nerve being the one to tell you to be consistent.
I haven’t given you guys an episode in probably over a month now.
by the way, merry christmas.
But here’s the problem when you’re not consistent.
When you’re not consistent, you’re selling yourself short. Someone could’ve taken your idea, and run with it in the same amount of time it takes you to realize that you had a good idea to begin with. You could’ve already seen progress.
What’s the point of starting something that you’re not gonna finish?
What’s the point in saying hey Amanda let’s run 30 miles a month if you’re not actually going to do it?
Yeah I’m talking to myself, ol lazy ass.
Started running in the beginning of October and I’ve given up already. Not because I’ve given up on myself, but I have allowed the weather to be my excuse as to why I can’t go running.
It’s too cold, I say. My poor frozen chicken legs. My poor runny nose. Man, fuck that shit.
How about my poor circulation? How about my poor eating habits and my poor blood pressure?
There are a lot of reasons you can give yourself that’ll justify not being consistent, so you need to find the one good reason TO be consistent.
If you don’t, then okay. Don’t do it then. Be your worst version of yourself if that’s what you choose.
But I promise you’ll be happier in the long term if you give yourself reasons to be healthy, to be happy.
it might even make dealing with family over the holidays an enjoyable pastime.
am i pushing it? probably pushing it.
but when you’re in sicko mode in your personal life, visiting your racist grandma is the least of your obstacles, right?
you’ve already been challenging yourself, giving yourself ultimatums – either do this, or be unhappy.
sometimes family is one of those challenges. sitting around a dinner table, awkwardly struggling to find a topic to connect on, god please don’t let grandma bring up the president, please don’t bring up the president, please don’t bring up the president…
and then she does, and your brain starts screaming “oh my god shut up why are you doing this to us” BUT…
your mouth stays shut, you may even have to close your eyes to imagine that the good lord or whatever other entity you believe in, jebus, xenu, a spacecraft trailing hale bopp – has taken you far away from this situation and you sit there quietly with a look of bliss while everyone else at the table questions your sanity.
what in the world could she possibly be so happy about?
number one, grandma’s bitterness aint got nothing to do with you.
and in that moment that she’s spewing some regurgitated shit about obama’s birth certificate, you can smile and recognize that she’s the angry one, she’s the one holding on to some baggage that is affecting her daily life, one where she’s mad about some shit that she sees on tv instead of being mindful of what a blessing her life should be.
you’re happy because you understand that at least you get the luxury of stepping out of this toxic family bubble when the day is over, while grandma has been living in her own personal hell for the last 45 years. and her mind isn’t gonna change today all of a sudden because you wanna talk to her about proper gender pronouns and whether or not the president is committing treason.
it’s like crying when a baby is crying just because the baby is crying. why tho?
noise levels elevate, tensions rise, everyone around you is uncomfortable and wants to throw both of you into the ocean. it just aint a good look.
so this holiday, try not to poke the bear. leave grandma alone. let your uncle try to convince the world the chinese are about to force us all to learn mandarin.
if you have to say something, never lead with your emotions. as a matter of fact, the only interjection i support is “hey i gotta go take a shit” and then spend at least half an hour in the bathroom venting to reddit, anything to not give uncle joe the ammunition he needs to call you a crybaby communist.
family is rough. you don’t get to choose them, and honestly, you don’t even have to choose to see or acknowledge them, but if you must, either out of catholic guilt or some other obligation you feel you have.