Annnnd I’m back. I know, how are you going to handle your excitement? Two posts in such close succession – I told you I was changing it up this year. Just kidding, this is most certainly an anomaly. Really this post is a continuation of the poorly written one from last week (sorry not sorry), a two-parter of sorts.
For those of you who didn’t catch the epically mediocre post from earlier this month, don’t worry, it didn’t carry much in terms of weight. It was my way of sand-blasting through the wall comprised of New Year anxiety and general malaise on the content front. And of course, a farewell to my grandmother, Peggy, whose passing brought into focus many things – mostly just to focus. I had been looking for something to hold onto, to brace myself for the upcoming year. It was remembering the way Peggy lived her life on the day of her funeral, a life filled with action and humor, that gave me the courage to face the music.
The first order of business was to come up with a plan. In the Kernan family, we love a plan. Typically, our plans revolve around where and when the next meal will be, but I grew up living life mapped out. 2018 Brynn would have chosen the blame-game over a plan. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a list more than a few names long of people who sucked the life out of me last year, but thankfully they’re no longer characters in my tragic movie. I wish I could say I’m mature enough to wish them well, but I’m not. Something to work on next year perhaps.
Last year I cleaned house of the toxic waste that ran the Brynn-train into the ground, but even then, couldn’t accept that I had chosen that path. I was bracing against life, not living it. Bad things happened to me, and in my mind, I was the victim in the Upper West Side Story (and it was far from a romance). That’s not to say last year’s clusterfuck was entirely in my control, but this year I finally can take ownership of my choices that led me down Shitshow Lane. Sorry for the cursing, Mom, but this depressing jaunt down memory lane needed something to liven it up.
As I was working on my first blog of 2019, you may remember I revisited my pre-Christmas post about the upcoming holiday. My singsong hopeful prose was sweet, but the importance of that predictive vignette didn’t hit me until a couple of weeks ago. Did Christmas 2018 kick-ass because I predicted it? Definitely not. But there were stones laid in that glimpse into the future that I found myself walking on down in Florida last Christmas. It was a plan of sorts, I was finding my way back to my way of living life. I was getting a focus back I thought I’d lost forever.
If this seems like a stretch to you, that’s fine, it very well might be. But instead of hanging back and riding whatever wave was to crash over me next, I had started paddling. And finally, with Peggy in my heart, I caught a wave.
This Aha moment wasn’t one I experienced like a lightning bolt, it was a monthlong push and pull with myself and those that helped me through the last 12 months. Parental units, I’m looking at you here… thank you for knowing what I needed and when I needed it. There’s nothing like the Deb telling you it’s time to get your shit together to ignite a monumental Taurean response.
First, I felt indignant and tried to claw my way back to my old ways. A spectrum of emotions followed – my personal favorite, fury, reared its regal head the most – and left me exhausted. As the dust settled from the realization that I was back at the helm, I found myself. I’m not kidding. It was like being reintroduced to someone you’ve already met. That someone was me. I was unrecognizable at first. And not just because I consumed double orders of fish dip during happy hour over Christmas each day (truthfully, though, on January 1 I fit into exactly one pair of pants). Each day my step quickened, and I found a beat more even than the day before.
The details are likely going to bore you to tears, but on the work front I was back to my former self. Traveling and putting time in, as I always had done before. I realized that when the Brynnster doesn’t exercise, she’s a daft moody cow who loses focus faster than a flea. Instead of attempting a quick-fix there, however, I made a plan. Rumble twice a week (added bonus of being able to hit things while exercising) and Soul Cycle on Saturdays with Valenteen (love her). Optional running days in between with dog dog as the weather allows. Naturally, I almost had a heart attack on my first run back… but it got easier. As my jab-cross combos improved, so did other parts of my life.
The financial implications of living Birdbox style sans plan was catastrophic. Though I’m still dealing with some of fallout from last year on this front, I finally pulled back the curtain. What I found behind it wasn’t pretty, but no time like the present to get those bills stacked neatly before me. At least now I know the damage, which is the first step in rectifying it. I also eat a lot of soup, which has the added bonus of having very few calories – adios Hog-days of 2018, hello more than one pair of pants to wear. It might seem like making these minor improvements like eating soup and cycling in a sweaty room with 50 strangers once a week couldn’t possibly have a life-altering affect. But I hate to say that old adage about one step at a time in the right direction will lead you somewhere you want to go is actually true. The old people are right, whoopee.
Believe you me, this year will be a work in progress… as is life. But, I’ve realized that there’s work to be done, and I’m finally doing it. In reality, I don’t really give a shit what pants fit or how many times a week I get to Rumble. What matters most is that I’m here and mapping out the next step towards the life I want. More time exercising leads to a happier Brynnster. More time working on ameliorating the shit from last year means less time worrying about it in the future.
Case in point, last year I blew up a friendship. Not surprisingly, it was mostly my fault and I rewrote the explosion in my mind to ensure I felt no responsibility for what ensued. Classic Brynn. Unfortunately, when you do this to someone you care about the repercussions are all around you. Not only was that person constantly missing from my life, but I knew, I KNEW, deep down that I had caused our schism. The only way forward was through, as they say, and I reached out to said friend. He agreed to meet and ultimately forgave me for what happened.
No big deal, right? Here’s the thing. It was a big deal. The people around you are the only thing you have at the end of the day. I’m not talking about your bumble date last week or a friend you made on a flight to Kansas. The reason I’m putting in work these days is to make myself the best person I can be for the people in my life. We’re only as good as the company we keep. And for Jason, and all of my nearest and dearest, I’m always willing to rumble.
The Dog Hair Diaries 