It's been a rough two years

It has been two years, five months and nine days, and while I feel...mostly better more than I used to--which is one hell of a convoluted sentence--it's been a rough two years. I've changed, in some ways getting better, in some ways...much worse. Without someone to put a check on my habits, I sleep in two hour bursts and my household has gone nocturnal. My kids play games at all hours of the night, and I do laundry and vacuum at 3am when I can't think anymore.

The computer calls me, and I spend a lot of time sitting at my desk. Something I never did outside of writing before. And I've gained weight. Lots of weight. Back during the San Francisco RWA my suit was all but falling off my hips and during DC, I had to buy new jeans one size bigger. Guess I went from starving myself to eating. I eat and eat and eat, and I know it's not healthy or good for me, but even knowing I'm doing it for a lot of complicated reasons that have nothing to do with food, it's hard to stop. I keep thinking of Mark Vorkosigan and wondering whether belting it across, or letting it all hang out is more offensive. I don't smoke, do drugs or drink, so maybe all that negative energy needs a home in the nearest vat of potato salad.

I've also calmed down, not as angry, burnt out (and "thin!") as I used to be. And there are only two lists, one in Outlook, one on my forearm. And...I spend a lot more time listening to my kids.

...building a relationship with them. Pretty proud of that.

But now that I have a video camera, it's rehearsal time, and all that weight has come back to bite me. My mantra? The camera adds ten pounds? Isn't working. Last time I checked I was a lot skinnier. I refuse to go around muttering, "The camera adds fifty pounds."

Not that I won't do the videos, but I need to turn off the comments.