I don't care for New Year's resolutions because they never stick. If I start doing something before January 1, I can consider it a lifestyle change instead of a resolution. Yesterday I signed back up for Weight Watchers and have been trying to navigate their new site since. The concept of points is still the same but it seems like they allot more points now (individual food items probably have higher points now too) and they have more of a push on being active so they have you answer some questions about your exercise habits and give you fitness goals.
Today, we made smoothies for breakfast (almond milk and a banana) and I went to the gym. I did 20 minutes on the treadmill, 5 minutes on the stairs (I couldn't do anymore) and 25 minutes on the bike. I figured I'd start with cardio and when I feel more comfortable I'll move over to the arm and leg machines as well as the free weights. I had a yogurt mid-morning and soup for lunch. Dinner was mustard glazed chicken with acorn squash and a salad. I'm stuffed!
I have to say, when I focus more on what I am eating, I eat quite a bit. But since I measure everything and track it, I know I can be successful even while feeling stuffed. I also realize that I don't feel comfortable after eating so much meat. For example, I ate 6 oz. of chicken and I feel disgusting. If I only ate 3 oz. I would have been fine and could have filled up on more squash. I have to keep these things in mind as I go forward. I think I will be more satisfied eating less meat overall. I know I couldn't give up meat entirely. I enjoy meat, but I have noticed a change in my taste buds and I do appreciate vegetables more now than ever before. I think this is also because I have been cooking different types of vegetables and trying new recipes, as opposed to the ones I grew up eating.
I would say it was a successful first day of tracking and working out. Here's to anti-resolutions!
Monday, December 28, 2015
Monday, December 21, 2015
What is in store for my future?
I can't keep ignoring the feeling that I'm not in the right profession. I guess everyone doubts their career choice once in a while, but every day?
I always dreamed about being a teacher. When I was a kid I would come home from school, line my stuffed animals and cabbage patch kids up on my bed, and reteach them what I learned in school that day. Every once in a while I could convince my sister, three years my senior, to be my student as well but that was a rare occasion. I had a chalk board and passed out imaginary papers. As I got older, the game stopped but my love of school continued. I would help classmates and tutor underclassmen. When I was in Austria, I worked for a company that taught adult English classes. I would spend hours in the office planning my lessons. When I returned to the States, I was excited to enter the teaching program at Montclair, even if it meant I would graduate two years later than anticipated.
I finally entered the program and ironically hated almost every second of it. There were only a couple of classes I actually found useful. I was placed for my student teaching, and although it wasn't the district I would have chosen, it was the grade level I wanted --high school. I learned to love the school despite my apprehensions and I loved the kids even more. When I graduated I hoped to return as a teacher but they had a hiring freeze. Instead, I sent my resume to about 3 dozen districts and got a call back from one-- the middle school in my childhood hometown.
Four years, three supervisors, approximately five hundred students, and two schools later, I can't say that I hate my job. There are days where I absolutely love it. The kids can be huge pains in the butt but when they open up to you, confide in you, explain their fears and dreams, you can't help but love every second. But I would be lying if I said I didn't dream of the day where I find another path. I am emotionally and mentally drained everyday. I wake up and hope that it's the weekend. I fall asleep as early as 8:00 pm. I want a vacation immediately after one finishes. This is not the life I want to live. I recently said that I only live 2 days a week. I want a job that is more fulfilling, and although most people would say that there is no job more fulfilling than teaching the future of America, I beg to differ. The job may be fulfilling to some, but not to me. My fulfillment is what is important to me. That may sound incredibly selfish but at the end of my life I don't want to look back on all the lives I've changed. I want to look back on the life I lived.
I always dreamed about being a teacher. When I was a kid I would come home from school, line my stuffed animals and cabbage patch kids up on my bed, and reteach them what I learned in school that day. Every once in a while I could convince my sister, three years my senior, to be my student as well but that was a rare occasion. I had a chalk board and passed out imaginary papers. As I got older, the game stopped but my love of school continued. I would help classmates and tutor underclassmen. When I was in Austria, I worked for a company that taught adult English classes. I would spend hours in the office planning my lessons. When I returned to the States, I was excited to enter the teaching program at Montclair, even if it meant I would graduate two years later than anticipated.
I finally entered the program and ironically hated almost every second of it. There were only a couple of classes I actually found useful. I was placed for my student teaching, and although it wasn't the district I would have chosen, it was the grade level I wanted --high school. I learned to love the school despite my apprehensions and I loved the kids even more. When I graduated I hoped to return as a teacher but they had a hiring freeze. Instead, I sent my resume to about 3 dozen districts and got a call back from one-- the middle school in my childhood hometown.
Four years, three supervisors, approximately five hundred students, and two schools later, I can't say that I hate my job. There are days where I absolutely love it. The kids can be huge pains in the butt but when they open up to you, confide in you, explain their fears and dreams, you can't help but love every second. But I would be lying if I said I didn't dream of the day where I find another path. I am emotionally and mentally drained everyday. I wake up and hope that it's the weekend. I fall asleep as early as 8:00 pm. I want a vacation immediately after one finishes. This is not the life I want to live. I recently said that I only live 2 days a week. I want a job that is more fulfilling, and although most people would say that there is no job more fulfilling than teaching the future of America, I beg to differ. The job may be fulfilling to some, but not to me. My fulfillment is what is important to me. That may sound incredibly selfish but at the end of my life I don't want to look back on all the lives I've changed. I want to look back on the life I lived.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Seasons Greetings
I still believe in Santa Claus. Of course I've known for many years, about seventeen or so (I was a late non-believer), that the man himself isn't real but instead I associate believing in Santa Claus with the feeling of the holiday season. But I am afraid to say that the belief is slowly waning.
When I was a kid we'd decorate our tree as a family (or at least the three of us), order Chinese food, and watch holiday specials on tv. Mom would bake lots of cookies and we would attempt to help. I would spend all the money I got for my birthday the month before on presents for my family. Christmas cards were put under the glass of the coffee table, stockings were hung by the stairs, lights would go on the house, and even in our bedroom windows. On Christmas Eve, my sister and I would sleep together in the same bed and wait to hear reindeer hooves on the roof. We would wake up early to loads of presents under the Christmas tree, the glass of milk and cookies we left gone, and mom making coffee in her terrycloth bathrobe. My father would torture us by getting up late, making us wait impatiently to open our gifts. It wasn't until the video camera was taken out, the adults were caffeinated, and about a dozen phone calls from various relatives were answered that we could finally open the presents.
Don't get me wrong, I don't expect the holidays to be the same as they were when I was a kid. But is it too much to ask for the holiday season to still feel the same? We decorated our apartment for Christmas pretty early. I was bored so we decorated the weekend before Thanksgiving, which breaks one of my cardinal rules. Our tree is small but suitable for the space. Our banister has been broken since we moved in but is covered in garland and lights. The windows are decorated as well with lights.
What is it that is preventing me from feeling the holiday cheer? I'd like to say that it's the weather, since its been on average +60 degrees, but it's been nice not freezing. I can't put my finger on it but it is pretty depressing. I'm hoping within the next few days it kicks in but if not, it'll be the year without a Santa Claus.
-K
When I was a kid we'd decorate our tree as a family (or at least the three of us), order Chinese food, and watch holiday specials on tv. Mom would bake lots of cookies and we would attempt to help. I would spend all the money I got for my birthday the month before on presents for my family. Christmas cards were put under the glass of the coffee table, stockings were hung by the stairs, lights would go on the house, and even in our bedroom windows. On Christmas Eve, my sister and I would sleep together in the same bed and wait to hear reindeer hooves on the roof. We would wake up early to loads of presents under the Christmas tree, the glass of milk and cookies we left gone, and mom making coffee in her terrycloth bathrobe. My father would torture us by getting up late, making us wait impatiently to open our gifts. It wasn't until the video camera was taken out, the adults were caffeinated, and about a dozen phone calls from various relatives were answered that we could finally open the presents.
Don't get me wrong, I don't expect the holidays to be the same as they were when I was a kid. But is it too much to ask for the holiday season to still feel the same? We decorated our apartment for Christmas pretty early. I was bored so we decorated the weekend before Thanksgiving, which breaks one of my cardinal rules. Our tree is small but suitable for the space. Our banister has been broken since we moved in but is covered in garland and lights. The windows are decorated as well with lights.
What is it that is preventing me from feeling the holiday cheer? I'd like to say that it's the weather, since its been on average +60 degrees, but it's been nice not freezing. I can't put my finger on it but it is pretty depressing. I'm hoping within the next few days it kicks in but if not, it'll be the year without a Santa Claus.
-K
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