I Did it My Way

It’s about that time again to shake things up.  Last year was a big year of change for me: It was the ending to a 10 year window of my life.  2017 started off rocky, but I’m not about to let that throw me off course.  I made the changes last year for a reason, and I need to keep my focus on moving forward.

One of the things I let go of last year was my side personal training business.  I had started the business without focus, and it did nothing but cause me stress.  I had let other influence the direction I took with that business, and in the end I was worn out and resentful.  It was hard to let go of something I had put so much energy into, but it was the right thing to do.

I didn’t give up on fitness, however, I simply let that business go.  I kept teaching a volunteer class at the YMCA, and I spent the year enjoying my own work outs.  The break did me a lot of good, but it’s time for the break to end.  I’m rested and ready to get back out there, but this time it will be on my terms.  This time I’ve started a fitness blog that will feed into a Facebook page I’ve set up.  I will be teaching a few classes new classes, but more importantly, I will be writing about fitness in the most honest way I can.

I almost quite the fitness business because of the fakeness of it all.  The fitness industry is about making money and selling an image and that does not sit well with me.  I love working out because it’s good for my mind and it makes me happy.  This time around, it’s not about selling spots to my classes or getting my next client.  It’s about sharing what I have learned over the years.  Sharing my struggles and sharing my successes.  I won’t be cross blogging, as my fitness blog has nothing to do with this site.  However, I wanted to share my new project with you all.  If you’re interested in checking it out for fun… here’s the link.


I don’t care if it becomes a success.  It only matters that I do it my way.

A Day in Panic

Crutches, expenses and I was three days late.  Screams all around my anxiety’s my fate.   A room with a view… breath taking; agreed? Overwhelmed and frustrated; runinations got me. 

My brother; my twin. Mirrored image of mind.  You came but then left; still we’re one of a kind. One  glass, two, who’s counting — just you.  White gold by the bottle makes me feel brand new.  

It’s time to shut down, breathe in and let go. Another day gone; a life lived alone. Morning will come and maybe you’ll wake. With hope in your eyes; the world offered to take.  

Darkness falls once more in the room. But tonight with my drink I don’t feel its gloom. Goodnight to all who suffer in pain. Let’s hope that tomorrow we’ll feel happy again. 

KK – aka Ms Smarty Girl 41 (Ms SG41)

You Want Me To Do What?

Have you ever been asked to do something when there is no way you can say so, but the thought of doing it makes you want to throw up in your mouth?  This happened to me today.

At the beginning of January, one of our co-workers passed away.  His celebration of life was held on February 11, 2017 in a town three hours from here.  That week the weather turned from cold to fucking miserable.  Highways were closed for several days prior to the celebration of life.  Because of this, the company informed the wife of our passed co-worker that we were advising our staff not to travel.  The owners offered to hold a gathering in town for anyone who could not attend the service.

I am the one and only HR person for our company, so planning the “make up” celebration of life was left to me.  I was told this Monday to organize something for Friday, which is now today.  Basically four days to plan an event for 60 people.  NO easy task, but I did it.  This evening from 4 to 6pm, we are gathering to remember the life of our friend.  Today, I messaged the wife, asking her if she could meet me 15 minutes early, as she has a slide show she wants us to play.  I need to get the computer set up and make sure it works prior to people arriving.  Her reponse was yes, of course, and hey I have a letter I wrote to “Fred” (not his real name), and I was wondering if you could read it tonight.

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OMG — WTF.  I cannot tell a grieving wife “no” to something like that.  But at the same time, how am I going to get up in front of a crowded room and read an emotionally charged letter written from a wife to her dead husband.  This is heavy shit for this anxious girl.

I did agree to read the letter, and I’ve been practicing all afternoon.  Still, I’m terrified I won’t read it with the emotion it’s meant to portray.  I read it to one of my co-workers, and I did fine one-on-one, but it’s not going to be the same this evening.  Let’s hope my anxiety doesn’t decide to fuck me up like it has a habit of doing.  I sort of feel this goes a little beyond the call of duty.  But I guess I feel honoured that she felt comfortable asking me to read this.

I’m sending a little prayer up to GOD; he hasn’t heard from me in a while, but I need his help.  I’m asking him to give me the voice of an angel tonight.  I’m asking for the strength to speak her words with the emotions that were written behind them.  I hope he can hear me, but just in case he can’t, I think I will need a BIG glass of wine before I make my debut.


Be Ashamed of Your Ignorance For It is Not Bliss

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Unfortunately for me, I’m an idealist.  I believe that there is a lot of goodness in the world, and I naively believe most people are understanding.  Why do I believe this?  Maybe I have to believe in goodness to make the world seem like a place I want to stay in. The problem with these beliefs are the contradictions I see to them more often than I’d like.


Yesterday I was faced with one such contradiction.  Because the situation involves my work place, I cannot go into detail.  However, I can say that I sat in front of an individual who told me mental health illnesses are “FAKE” illnesses.  Fake.  He used that word.  This person is not aware of my anxiety disorder, and he never will be.  I am very careful who I disclose my mental health issues with for this very reason.   Still, I was unable to say nothing.  My response to him went something like this: “Whether or not you believe that mental health disorders are real does not matter in this case.  The fact is the law views it as an illness, and we have a corporate obligation to accommodate people with this type of disability.”  He did seem to understand the word “LEGAL”.

I so badly wanted to debate this issue with him, but I didn’t because he is in a position of authority over me.  He would not fire me if I disclosed my own illness, but he would disrespect me and treat me differently.  Of course there are legal measures I could take if that were to happen; however, I do not feel that would be in my best interest.  The sad fact is, there are way too many people who think this way.  Mental illnesses can’t be seen, and if you have never experience one yourself, they are very difficult to understand.  But to call them “FAKE”… that is plain ignorance.  Is it “fake” when a teenage girl takes her own life because she can’t handle the sadness she feels everyday?  Are the millions of people taking anxiety and depression medication “faking” it?  What about the strung out homless people we see walking our streets everyday?  Are they there because they are mentally healthy?  GIVE YOUR FUCKING HEAD A SHAKE PEOPLE.  If you don’t know what you’re talking about, keep your fucking mouth shut.

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Mental illnesses are very real, and they affect people from all walks of life.  It doesn’t matter if a person was abused as a child, or if they came from a loving family.  Mental illnesses can and do affect all types of people.  I do not feel it’s my calling to change the way people see mental health issues.   IF they are too ignorant to accept the things they don’t understand, that is their problem.   Instead, I feel it’s my calling to help and encourage those that struggle with these illnesses.  I share with them my experiences, and I show my understanding for theirs.  I stand up for them to ensure they are treated fairly, and that they are not discriminated against.  This is why I chose a career in human resources.

“Ignorance is not bliss for those your ignorance affects.” – Ms. SG41


When You Realize You Are Not Invincible

I’ve been called a machine more than a few times in my life.  My exercise routine is intense to say the least, and I like it that way.  It helps my moods, and it gives me the permission to not feel too guilty about my little wine habit.  On average, I put in about 10 hours of exericise in a week.  I typically take one day of rest, but not always.  Working out keeps me as sane as I possible am able to be.

Now every once in a very blue moon the universe decides it’s time for me to take a break.  It literally stops me in my tracks.  Like last night.  It was an ordinary Thursday evening.  I finished work, and went to the gym an hour before I had to teach a class.  I usually like to get my own work out in before I teach.   I hit the spin bike for 45 minutes, and I was feeling pretty good.  I entered the studio 10 minutes before class, and instructed the class to set up their equipment.  I started the music and began the warm up — everything was going as planned.  Once the warm up was complete, we began the workout on the step, and that’s when it happened.

POP.  OMG my fucking calve muscle.  I almost fell to the ground, but being the professional I am, I staggered a bit and remained upright.  I tested the leg to see if I could put any weight on it — NOPE.  Shit.  I looked at the class not knowing what to day.  I did the only thing I knew how to do: I informed them I just injured my leg and that I would be teaching the class on one leg.  I battled my way through the class.  I was in an enormous amount of pain.  When the class finally ended, I hobbled my way to my car and somehow managed to drive myself home.

Once home, I cried like a little baby for a good 30 minutes.  Eventually, I could think clearly enough to find some pain killers in my bathroom, and I washed them down with a couple of ciders.  I then rubbed some A535 on my leg, wrapped it, iced it, and elavated it.  Once the pain killers kicked in, I sank into the couch and passed out.

Today, I cannot walk on my leg.  I’ve haven’t left my desk for more than a potty break today.  Why did this happen?  I will likely unable to exercise for a mininum of 2 weeks depending on how badly I damaged the calve.  To me that is a death sentence.  You might as well tell me I can’t eat or drink for two weeks.  At least I can drink.  That is exactly what I will be doing at the end of this day.

Nonsensical Babble: I Need a Drink

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I don’t understand my strong desire to meet a man and fall in love.  It’s been over four years since my last relationship, and I’ve realized just how simple life is without a partner.  No bullshit.. no fighting…. no compromising…. living alone is actually quiet peaceful.  SO why do I want to change that.

Last week, I had a taste of what it is like back out in the big bad world of intimate relationships.  You know what happened?  My anxiety tripled, and I got hurt.  HMMMM.  Could it be that relationships cause anxiety?

I think I need to change my focus.  Instead of looking for a love partner, I will look for a “love” partner — if you catch my drift.  Just a good healthy fit young man to spend a few hours a week with.

All I need to do is change my whole personality, value system, and morals.  I’ll be set.

I’m completely uninspired to write today, and this little piece of shit post is all I could muster up.  Writing is an addiction; I need it even when it’s the shits.

Happy almost Friday my lovely blogger friends.  Let’s hope for a little better content in tomorrow’s writing.

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