Three weeks

Tonight is good. I was more useful to myself and other people today than on my average alcoholic day--not in any heroic way but nevertheless in a way that feels good. And Monday night is my favorite meeting, a women's meeting with a lot of laughter and support and meaningful discussion.

One of the challenges of the coming week is to attempt to exercise. I'm supposed to be creating a routine that includes physical activity, argh. I had gotten a nice pattern started with walking the dog before I moved out of A's house, but I've completely stalled out since then. It's time to address that, so Mom and I have promised the dogs a walk early in the morning. On Friday I also got a swimsuit (!) toward the goal of using the pool at the rec center here. And there are, I don't know, treadmills and suchlike available as well.

I haven't enjoyed exercising since I was around twelve. My body interprets it as punishment, and I believe I've already established my reaction to negative sensations, yes? Dog walking is okay, though, so I guess it's a good place to start. I need some combination of enjoyment and discipline to establish better habits in this area. Possibly also an iPod.

Another challenge is to get my ass back to work. My brain is absolutely convinced that it can't do it. So much anxiety and shame and so many scrambled signals, gack. I need to identify a truly manageable task for tomorrow to get me going, something relatively low-stress that I can break down into many parts. Something that requires as little concentration as possible. (Heh.) If I can create spreadsheets about my finances, I oughta be able to do a little editing, right?