My Own Tsunamis

Woke up to the headlines in the news about a ‘tsunami wave hitting U.S. shores after a major Pacific earthquake.’ I’m sitting in my living room on the couch and, rather egoistically, thinking about... the inner tsunamis I’m dealing with myself. The tsunami of self-doubt, procrastination, regrets, struggling with my body and weight, the tsunami of sadness, the tsunami of hot flashes, the tsunami of apathy and indifference.

I’ve calculated online that with daily exercise, I could reach my dream weight by mid-December. Mid December?! It’s too far. I want to have a bikini body right now, which is too unrealistic, as sitting on the couch doesn’t get me one inch closer to it. “Do you have a special event in mind after reaching your goal?” the online quiz asked. The wedding was one of the options. Hm, I have old jean shorts I would love to fit myself into. And then, might I marry? Might I have a wedding with strictly shorts dress code?

“Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was twenty-six. If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don't take it off until you're thirty-four.” – Nora Ephron wrote, and I couldn’t agree more, although I was thirty-four seventeen years ago.

I’m crawling towards my ideal weight goal. I didn’t know I had so much jealousy in me until this morning, when I tried a fifteen-minute full-body yoga routine. The online instructor was a goddess. Toned arms, beautiful body, long legs, she was the epitome of “THE BODY.” She did the whole set of exercises effortlessly, as if she floated on screen. I was drenched. I was soaked. I was tired, and I smoked my early morning cigarette hungrily five minutes after finishing, shutting down my laptop. My living room is far from minimalistic in design, living no space for a yoga mat, but I’m squeezing in between the door and the piano pretending I’m doing a wall Pilates. Trying. Sweating. Cursing. Quitting. Starting again. “Fail again, fail better,” – I have to post it on the wall.

A cup of Turkish coffee and Instagram is the best thing after a failed attempt at mastering a proper ‘downward dog’ position and a twenty-second plank. I would never have thought of coming up with so many things I would rather be doing instead of exercising in twenty seconds. That’s why I’m scrolling Instagram. I’m not thinking of quitting Instagram. I love Instagram. Today, more than ever. Immaculate haircuts, pedicures, stunning interiors, cozy vibes, summer vibes, beaches, smart and cute pets, podcast clips, French Cinema, books, delicious food from all around the globe, French Riviera, Tuscany, Sicily, Carrie Bradshaw and her outfits. Why would I? It’s the world that’ll still be there despite the tsunami. Despite the Earth screaming to humans that it’s enough.

And, by the way, I’m more than happy Aiden finally left. Bye Aiden. Please, don’t come back.

Beach