In which I am nearly brutally honest

Ummm....no. I am not interested in being Kimmy Gibbler.

Let's be honest about one thing, I may be honest but I have a hard time being brutally honest. Ask my best friend, who to this day won't let me live down the fact that I didn't tell her that her soccer workout was kind of sort of giving her cankles. I swear that is the only time in her life she's ever kind of sort of had them. And it was only because her workout was hella hard and intense with heavy emphasis on lifting. Who wants to tell their super-strong semi-pissed off freind about her cankles? Not me.

I digress.

But here's something I've noticed about myself lately, I'm playing the best friend role in my own life. Not the "I'm my biggest cheerleader" kind of role. No, because that would be healthy and happy. No, the role I'm playing is, "Playing second fiddle to the heroine of the piece so that I'll offset her trials of singledom/career/fashion. with my quirky one-liners and pathetic escapades. And while the leading lady goes off and finds the man/job/dress of her dreams, I stay at home and sabotage myself with another bowl of ice cream and a failed dating episode so that the disintegration of my life perfectly sets of the leading lady's successes. Then at the end of the movie, my eyes will lock with the leading lady's new conquest's* best friend (who let's be honest is not datable because among other things he picks his scabs and likes extra grease on his pizza) and since we're both lonely, desperate**, and self-sabotaging we'll fall into an unhealthy/sartorially challenged relationship that will only further emphasize the success of the hero/heroine."

That kind of best friend role. I don't even like that role in Romantic Comedies. It's demeaning. (Sorry for the harsh depiction friends of hero, I don't think that of all of them.)

And here's the thing. There isn't even an actual person for me to play second fiddle to--not that there would be an excuse if there was. I'm playing the best friend role all by myself. I'm expecting less for and of myself. And you know what? Being the best friend who has quirky but pointless adventures and comically fails at life sucks. It sucks hard.

And I'm sick of it.

So here's the goal. My friend Larrie had decided to do a 40-day to a new you goal. And I'm going to do it too. I need a little bit of time to plan. And since I'm working two jobs and trying to launch a thesis it's going to take me a little while to figure out the whole thing. But I can run consecutive 40-day projects. Because if I wait to figure out the whole fix for everything before I start I might be into my 40s before I get going at all.

Here are two things that need fixing:

Weight. It's been a rough year. And that's reflected in my waistline. You know what doesn't fix that? Nutella and bananas. *drools* You know what does? Working out! (For me.) Goal: Work Out. At least three times a week to start with. Up the ante thereafter. (After 40 days.)

Sleep. 2 a.m. is not an acceptable time to go to bed when you need to be up by 6 a.m. the next/same day. Shiz doesn't work out when you keep those hours.

Okay, there will be more to come. Maybe I'll start a new blog to keep track of myself? Let's see if I can balance two. I make NO guarantees. It's all I can do to keep up with this one, reading/commenting on all yours, sleeping, and homework-ing. Especially since my primary job has blocked blogger and wordpress. Unhappy face.

I have goals, and I will be my own leading lady.

A well-rested leading lady.
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*Because it rom-coms all roads lead to a new, successful relationship. Even if you're only going out to buy artichokes.

**To be clear I don't feel desperate. But who doesn't feel lonely occasionally? Even my married friends get lonely, so I know that's not an instant fix and I'm not looking for it to be.