OK Superman. You Win.
le sigh,
it’s a fact now.
my mind, passion, and spirit is way stronger than my 25 year old body.
i know, 25.
what an age right?
a few years out of college, a lil bit of ass kicking/kicking ass at work and BAM, i feel aged, and old.
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
my body has been screaming at me. SCREAMING at me for some major R&R
as much as i love working in a restaurant,
and as much as i love this industry
jlo is human.
it’s a very hard to live healthily and passionately at the same time,
and now, the older i get, (or the older i feel , resilience ho!)
i am figuring out that each day is so worth it, only if i’m at my best, doing what i need to do, when i need to do it.
execution is key here folks, in living out those dreams and passions.
but what happends when your body says no?
and your body gives you all these painful tell tail signs that you must slow down and rest?
i must listen.
otherwise i will die.
epic – yes?
dramatic – yes?
true?
yes.
i woke up with a swollen arm sunday morning.
and i mean SWOLLEN.
it’s scary when you see a body part everyday and then all of a sudden, you look at it one AM and it doesn’t look like yours.
it hurt to move
it hurt to rotate my wrist
and i mimic-ed the motions i do at work (i.e rolling out dough, pounding out dough, baking off heavy trays,) to see what was up, and i screamed in pain. AGHHHHHHH.
and not only was it my arm,
but my entire back, my trap, my delts, and my neck was innnnn pain.
the dough. omg… i’m getting overworked at work.
which seems like a funny thing to say, and people keep telling me that i’ll get used to it…
and i just keep smiling* to them and saying “yea” at work because i don’t want to seem weak, at least in mind games — but inside my reaction is really “i don’t want to get used to this abuse to my body!”
dahh, i just need to rest.
ok. rest it today jlo, on your one day off.
so i drove with one arm to lunch, met up with homie G, she felt hung over from a wedding, and i felt hungover all month, haaa
we ordered a whole bunch of my favourite Shanghainese dumplings and five mins into giddy conversation later, i pick up my chopsticks to eat and i had a major scarlett moment — YeeeeeeeeeOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!
OMG. I COULDN’T USE MY CHOPSTICKS.
OH HELLS NO!!!
nothing gets in the way of JLO EATING!
awww shiiiettt.
this is bad.
“what is wrong with you?”
“LOOK AT MY MAN HAND!! WHAT IS THIS?!!” (i hold up both hands for comparison)
“Let me see” (she is studying to be a sport therapist / chiropractor)
she pushes all the food to the side, and i reach my hulk of an arm over the table for her to examine
i look at the waiter, and ask for a fork in chinese -”for me”
i grab a fork and poke at my food with my left hand while she pokes around on my right.
i am starving since now i’m limited with what i can or cannot eat at work because of food costs and now i’ve been sneaking food into my mouth every chance i get and eating like a maniac on my days off because god damn it i’m human! if i’m going to be working non stop anywhere between 6 – 12 hours straight five days a week, I’M GOING TO EAT! ESP WHEN MY JOB IS TO FEED OTHER PEOPLE! i hate getting in trouble for eating at work! it’s NOT HUMAN! i’m NOT A MACHINE!! — well clearly.
“it’s not your wrist jam — well it is, but it’s also all the muscles and tendons all up the arm. everything is swollen. you’re overworked.
“yea, no shit. this job has been killing me since day one, i love it, but it’s slowly killing my body. i feel like i’ve aged two years in the last 7 weeks”
“it’s only been 2 months?!”
“yea feels like forever huh? hahahaa, for reaL”
well, it’s your…”
she then goes on to hilariously recite all the scientific names for all the muscles in the arm and tendons attatched to them.
i glare at her thinking “oh shit” but instead i say,
“damn, i did well in kines in high school, & i know what you’re talking about.
that’s. not. good.”
she strokes her thumb up my arm in the medial side towards my elbow
I SCREAM.
in the middle of the restaurant
holy crap.
“umm, you need to get this checked out. acupuncture, acupressure, ice pack, anything.”
she continues to rub my arm, trying to massage the stress, the swollen poor tendons and muscles that just need some extra love, and tears run down my face from the unexpected excruciating pain.
ok, monday. i have an apt already with my circulation doc
maybe if i sweat it out tonight and dance, i’ll be ok.”
“you best ice that first -”
ok.
let’s eat.
ughh, still so mad that i get yelled at at work for eating…”
***
so i wake up monday afternoon and head to my doc after an intense night of partying; celebrating another end of a crazy work week at the restaurant. i felt i had to blow off steam since friday night service made me cry. literally.
i walk into my doc’s office proclaiming
“i’m so broken, fix me!”
and she spends three hours releasing all the tension in my arm, neck, back, trap, and feet.
you’re a woman. i know you want to do things that make you happy, but your mother is very worried about you,
“yea i know, she got mad at me for not quitting my job already since it’s been taking such a big toll on my body.”
“yea, at this rate, you’re going to have complications later on, if you ever want kids, etc. you need to take care of yourself and weight out if it’s really worth your health”
aGHhh.
the golden question of the decade.
is this really worth my health.
i’ve been through 2 major sicknesses that almost killed me since i was 18.
i know i’m not like everyone else, and i know my body is more sensitive to outside factors that effect my health. i’ve had 4 or 5 major shifts in my diet and lifestyle since then and have finally figured out what works and how to eat to increase my nutrient intake everyday. (hence why i EAT so damn much at work, and outside of work really. well i mean it’s no surprise, my friends have always been like d-d-dang jlo, you eat a LOT! lol.)
and i don’t smoke, and i am relearning to control my alcohol intake (i find being DD is always the best alibi) and i’ve been learning to control my emotional life too (i have 3 blogs for this reason ;) haa)
so when do i step in and say –
hey,
what i want to do is crossing over to unhealthy
my job is not sustaining me in the way i expected,
and i’ve been learning a lot more about survival than about food itself.
hmm, what a predicament.
isn’t food about survival?
sometimes i believe my role in life as a sensitive person is to enter a system,
and point out what other people should be sensitive to as well -
in order to treat everyone else like human.
human’s are not machines,
we are human.
we need to eat, drink water, and sleep,
we need rest, we need recover,
and we need to survive.
above all else,
we need to take care of each other.
that’s where friendship, trust, respect, & love come in
and i mean really CARE about each other.
everything else falls in between.
work time, play time, chill time, entertain me time…
but that’s just time management, no? ;)
so my decision to go back to grad schooL is a good one :) Master of Arts in food studies, food systems and cultures, here i COME!
manhattan here i come again! woohoo!
and as much fun as it is to do this job here and to go into work everyday and see my friends,
as much excitement as it was to consider the possibility of working on the line and living the fast life for another 2 years downtown toronto, working harder and playing harder,
i am not 20 anymore.
i am a woman
and my body is going to feel even more ‘different’ than i’m used to in about five more years when i hit 30.
sure, 30 is the new 20.
but i i have also learned that i need to take care of myself first.
and really take care of myself, and now that i know what that means,
i can actually evaluate now,
how much longer can my body handle this kind of work?
i hate being in a position where i’m “useless”
and right now my brains are useless – and i have the brains ;)
and yesterday with my arm all bandaged up at work -
i got frustrated, because my body is now waving white flags telling me to stop and go back to using my brain,
what i’ve been trained to do for the last 6 years.
i can’t roll any more dough this week with this arm
and i am barely moving it, only when i need to
i don’t want to die overworked and physically useless.
even superman had his kryptonite.
and mine is my body. it limits my incredible imagination and passion in ways that just makes me have to be more creative.
but i like that.
let me leave my mark on this planet first before i die.
& if even,
in this internet space.
time to shift gears superwoman!
take care & eat well
xoxox J xoxox