We used to have good times together, but now I feel them slip away

I was going to recount my recent troubles at work, and to a much lesser extent, at home, but I don't want to bring any more energy to them than is necessary. Fred, Matt, and I were just talking about the cycle coworkers get into when they share a common negative experience at their job and spend much of their free time complaining about it to each other. People need to vent, I get it, but it perpetuates negative energy. I've had jobs like that, but they are firmly lodged in the cellar walls of my past. Anyway, my troubles at work are uncharacteristic and hopefully temporary and my living situation could be a lot worse. Still, the writing is on the wall; time to plot my escape. When matters feel helpless, I say to myself, This too shall pass. Works every time.

So we'll move on to better things. I'm listening to Sun Kil Moon's Admiral Fell Promises, which is very good (Mark Kozelek's songs have been true companions of mine for a good chunk of my pure-hearted life). Tomorrow I'll head up to Tracy and Ray's. Tonight I'll shower the dried yoga sweat away and I'll read from the Patti Smith book and play music, singing to the silent angels and friends and lovers real and imagined. It shall be a glorious evening, I declare! Oh, I'll meditate, too. It's okay to assess the negative situations life presents; they are as real as anything and offer up lessons, but there is no sense in having them fester and bulge on autopilot in our minds. That leads to a grab bag of physical and psychological issues. But you know that. The gist is this: balance the sour with sweet whenever possible. And if you're able, tip the scales in favor of the sweet.

Somehow, I've lost a bit of my headstand mojo and I need to get it back. I may hit the mat again tonight, if only to work on that pose. I want to master it so that I can do things like backdrop to bridge pose from it. Yoga never gets boring; there's always more to learn.

Been modifying my diet. I barely eat sweets anymore. Same goes for bread. And I can't remember the last time I ate pasta. It may sound like rubbish, but I don't really get as much satisfaction from unhealthy foods the way I used to. Last time I had a piece of cake, my body protested. "Why are you poisoning me?", it asked. I'm not saying the cake didn't taste good as it went down my gullet, but that shit is toxic at the end of the day. You know what I like better than cake? Cashews. They are sublime. I know I sound like some preachy health guru, but I'm giving it to you straight. If you don't like it, you should go spend some time at The Fat Fuck's Guide To Being A Fat Fuck blog. I hear it's decadent.

Alright, disciples, I'm done with this post, which I'm giving a grade of C +. Not great, but it's a passing grade. Brings back memories of school. Anyhow, go do yourself and humanity a favor and  smile at a stranger or tell a friend or family member how much you love them. And do something nice for yourself while you're at it, like getting shitfaced drunk.