lifestyle

What happened when I stopped drinking caffeine

One rather boring Monday, I woke up. But this time around, I woke up feeling rested- which never, EVER happens; not since my teen years at least.

My regular Mondays consist of convincing myself for 10+ minutes that I do indeed have to go to work accompanied by the feelings of utter exhaustion and misery.

This time around though I woke up and felt good. To get myself through the day I usually take half a caffeine pill (equal to half a cup of coffee) and then for the rest of the day I drink soda (reserve judgement, I know it’s not healthy).

But that boring Monday morning I was glistening. A wild thought popped into my head- what if I go all day without caffeine?

So I did!

I felt powerful. Almost couldn’t believe I lasted through a Monday without any magic caffeinated pill to wake me up.

Then Tuesday came. I woke up miserable. The blissful sleep of the previous night was gone. But I didn’t want to go back to caffeine. I lasted a whole day, could I last another one?

So I did! Around noon, however, a throbbing headache started creeping up on me. I drank a lot of water but that’s not what my body wanted. More headache! I got home cranky and ready to punch somebody. I decided to go to bed early to sleep the pain away.

I don’t know why I decided to keep it up but that’s how I do things in life in general. Once I start I want to stick to it even if it doesn’t make sense. Was my body telling me to get some caffeine in it otherwise it will shut down? Yes. But was I semi proud that I made it two days without being addicted to caffeine and its magical effects it does on my preceptors? Yes!

It’s been a month now since I’ve had caffeine. I tell ya, I’ve heard many stories about how you allegedly feel so much better when you stop drinking sodas and coffee. One of my past co-workers insisted she was short of being reborn and rejuvenated and it actually showed in her radiant look. Me personally, I still feel lousy every day. I look sickly and have about as much energy as my 12- year old cat. The only difference is I fall asleep faster because I am beat by the end of the day.

  • How about you guys? Did you have better results since kicking caffeine to the curb?
Advertisements

The loser leaving work at 5pm

I normally start my work count down to 5pm roughly around noon.

I take my lunch  at 12:30pm so in my head, I am closer to that 5 o’clock in my head. Since I take an hour lunch, I get back by 1:30pm and, hey, that is just 3 hours and 30 minutes away from that wonderful 5 pm!!

Then I try to do some work, maybe be productive for about two more hours which gets me to 3:30 pm. Then the second count down to 5 o’clock starts. Any work that would require more than two hours gets pushed onto the next day. I probably get up and go to the bathroom and/or get some coffee. Then I do some more work, hoping for no last minute complications that would impede me from leaving at 5pm.

I don’t know how your workplace is, but where I work people are serious. 5pm means nothing to them. They don’t care if they don’t see their kids, spend more time with their spouses, no, work has to get done because there is not always another day.

So that means that I am usually the first one to get up at 5:00pm. I look around as business chatter continues as if in fact, it is not 5 o’clock in our very own office. I shut down my computer and I sneak out.

I sneak out like a plain traitor that has the audacity to leave work at 5pm! I try not to attract too much attention. I know most of these people will stay at least half hour/an hour late to finish up whatever they were doing. I feel like I am being watched, being judged- “Look at Leah leaving work exactly at 5pm! Who does she think she is?!” So I try to duck down in a way that will get me fastest to my car. I  feel their stares, they are piercing me with fierce judgement but I continue. As the proud leader of the 5pm rebellion, I see some other people follow behind me.

I get inside my car and drive away before my boss comes behind me, chasing me to finish something that can be done tomorrow- and once I am off the company parking lot, I feel like I am winning! I get to go home and see my family even if for the measly 2 hours. I may be a loser that doesn’t work hard and leaves at 5pm, but I am a winner in my family’s eyes!

How about you, readers? Do you also feel weird leaving work at 5pm on the dot or is your company more understanding when it comes to it? Do you feel the peer pressure as well? Leave comments below……and don’t forget to leave at 5pm, sharp!!

Image Credit

 

 

Friends of a fat turned body-builder woman hope she will lose motivation sometime soon

Buffalo, NY- Perpetually hiding a pot belly in baggy clothes sometimes becomes so annoying that some people actually decide to do something about it. Brittany Quinn, 26, decided to get more toned after she got fed up with her jiggly body. “She started with the simple couch to 5K runs and things like that,” Leah, 25 told us about Brittany. They’ve been friends since high school. “I supported her and even did the runs with her. I knew she hated her body for years and doing something about it was definitely good.”

But Brittany Quinn didn’t stop there. She started complaining about not being toned enough. “She really changed her diet to nothing but protein shakes and lean meat and all that other super healthy stuff,” Whitney, Brittany’s best friend, noticed. “And she started to life weights. She ended up going to the gym for two hours each day.” Her Facebook was drowning with quotes like “I just want someone that will lift, cuddle and drink protein shakes with me” and had tons of pictures of her lifting heavy. “Within a few months you could notice a huge change in her body. The fat was disappearing and she was getting really toned. But she started cancelling on our movie nights because she didn’t want to be tempted by pop-corn and chips, and she spent Friday nights at the gym instead of going out and having fun.”

Within a year, she entered a body-building contest and won third place. “Of course we all went to see her to support her,” Whitney continued, “but we are all secretly hoping the old Brittany would come back. Like, she doesn’t have to be as fat as she was but we feel like she went from one extreme to another- from being really fat to really fit. Can’t she just be happy with a normal body and still go to the gym, eat healthy and still spend some time with her friends?”

Brittany was not available to comment because she was too busy lifting or die trying (to life it).

Picture Credit

Inspired by The Onion

Hate running and do it with a passion

Running doesn’t keep me happy. I don’t care if they have cute running clothes to make me look like I am dying less when I run. Nor do I care for the positive brain effects and endorphin that release as I run. Ok? I couldn’t care less.

I have no love for running whatsoever. I do it purely and solely because it is good for my health. There is no love relationship with it; I am not passionate for the sweating and the huffing and puffing I go through every-time. I am not a fan of having to convince myself from not stopping all the time. It is a constant mental battle and constant fighting with my body. Because, I guess, some people have bodies which are in dying need of running. My body is in dying need of couch-ing. When I run, I am like a nagging wife who constantly reminds her husband to do something. “Don’t stop, run faster, don’t stop, think positive, you can do this, don’t stop, pick up the pace, yes you can do another five minutes, don’t stop, didn’t I tell you not to stop?!”

But, as I tell all my friends who find running to be “boring” and hate to do it… You probably don’t like to go to work everyday either and yet…. you go. You make yourself do it. Why? Because you get paid. If you go running, you are compensated with good/better health. It’s boring, yes, but how many things in life are beautifully boring and yet a major part of our lives? So do it, be passionate about your hate for running and go sweat your butt off.

P.S: Thanks for reading my post, now share your thoughts on running with me 🙂

Picture Credit

Don’t let numbers define you.

Too often I find myself chained to numbers in my life. I rely on them and let them determine who I am. They tell me whether I am loser or a winner, a good person or a bad person, or if I am a failure in life.

How much money do I make? Why am I not making more? How many pounds do I weigh? How expensive was the holiday I went on? Was it expensive enough to impress other people? Does this dress look like an expensive dress? How many hours did I sleep? Why don’t I have a two car garage? How old am I? (and the inevitable- when did I get this old?)

It’s a scary thing, relying on numbers. They put me in a bad mood because there is always a goal that has to be reached. Sales numbers, performance reviews, even damn dieting is not successful unless the scale budges and shows less!

What would happen in my life if I started to ignore numbers? What if I became happy with what I am making? What if I realized I don’t need a two door garage and that the world won’t end because I do not drink 8 glasses a day like I was supposed to according to every health magazine? What if I was happy with the fact I only sold one book so far on Amazon– someone bought my book, isn’t that something?

What if I, instead, focused on helping others, or making someone’s day by actually having a conversation with them? Or baby-sitting someone’s kids so they can finally go on a romantic date after sleepless nights and dirty diapers?  What if I invited that chatty old neighbor for dinner after five years of knowing her?

The world becomes so much easier when the burden of number disappears- suddenly, the focus is on others, and not on you.

Picture Credit

Dinners on plastic plates

The first time I was ever almost stoned to death because I brought plastic plates for dinner was during my first dinner in France. Growing up, my mother stored all the fancy china Grandma inherited in a special cabinet, while she made all of us use plastic plates. I did not think anything of it- Mom did not have a dish washer and -therefore-logical thinking- we used plastic plates so she did not have to clean the dishes after.

And then I came to France. Study abroad and all, with people from all over the world (which btw, my book on the study abroad is available on Amazon). Anyway, we were almost like representatives from the United Nations or something, gathered behind a tiny table. Trying to be helpful, I brought plastic plates, plastic cups and plastic silverware to eat with. It was not cheap either, so I really thought I was doing everyone a favor. Well, I guessed wrong. Needless to say, most attacks came from the Germans and the nature-loving Scandinavians. I think I had to listen to “how wasteful” Americans are through the whole dinner. I never felt so judged. Is it really so wrong to use plastic plates? Isn’t using a dish washers equally wasteful? Why I am such a horrible person?

The type of treatment I received was more than brutal. Even the Canadians loved to bash my wastefulness and hatefulness for nature. But I did not care- all I kept thinking was my Mom, and how many nights those plastic plates saved her from being the dishwasher. Instead of cleaning the dishes for half hour, she was able to sit down, relax and talk to her kids. That’s worth something too, right?

Picture Credit

Sparta is back in style

Finally! Skinny people have to take care of their bodies too! We are going back to the Spartan times. The times of fit people sweating together and sculpting their bodies. I mean, we should politely disregard the military-style education program with hazing and fighting.. here, we are talking about the work on their bodies, their ultimate obsession to achieve the bulkiest, chizzled and god-like muscles. Men or women, they were all supposed to strive to be physically fit.

Somewhere between Sparta and Twiggy, skinny people strategically positioned themselves to be adored and admired. I don’t know how we let them get away with it, but we did. And as lucky as they were with their genetically given bodies that have metabolisms on steroids, they were laughing at us as they ate chips and didn’t gain a pound.

But now, a new revolution is happening. It is slow, but it is sure. Skinny people can’t just be skinny. Now they look weak. And jiggly. And not toned. It is great! As a person who struggled with being fat my entire life, it is nice that the trend is moving towards a “healthy lifestyle.” Because just because you are skinny, doesn’t mean you are healthy. I have tons of skinny friends who gobble down cakes and hamburgers and almost lose weight.

It’s a new trend of eating food that fuels your body. A trend of working out hard to sculpt your body. No one can get away with being lazy or having good genes. You have to work for it, and you have to discipline yourself. It’s nice. Because ultimately it is about being healthy, and that’s what matters the most.

Picture Credit

Boring koi ponds and private theaters

I read the gossip websites. I know every celebrity home should include all/ or most items listed below (and more):

Koi poind greeting the visitors. Lagoon-style pool to jump into. Wooden beams. Ornate chandeliers. A theater. Arched doorways. Multiple fireplaces. Spa tub and mood lightning. Private elevator. A gazebo. Waterfall spa. Nine-stall barn.

I’m assuming most celebrity houses entail that. And while they might be happy to live in such overabundance, I can honestly say I would never want to live in such a home. Why? Well…..

1. If I got anything dirty, it would cost a fortune to replace

2. Too many rooms (I already get disoriented in a hotel, why would I want to get disoriented in my own home)

3. I don’t want my Mother to move in (The excuse “we don’t have enough room” would be gone out the window)

4. Higher chance of a murderer hiding in my house (more rooms= more opportunities to hide)

5. I hate being hot so there’s no way I can put that sauna in a good use

6. Presence of fountains would increase my urge to go pee

7. A private elevator would make me even lazier than I already am

8. I don’t pay enough attention to my doorway to truly appreciate the value of an arched one

9. Multiple TV Screens would be neglected as I barely watch TV anymore

And more… but, above all, I believe in being modest. I would prefer to sell the house, live in a smaller home and donate money to a good cause than to compensate for whatever lack of insecurities I am trying to hide and show off to other people by buy buying a house that should probably be a hotel in the first place. So, no, Beyonce and Taylor Swift, I don’t want your damn mansions! 😉

Picture Credit

To gym or not to gym?

1:00 pm- My lunch break is over and I successfully avoided my lunch running buddies. I mean, I have horrendous back pain, what can I do?

1:15 pm- Starting to feel a little guilty about lying to my co-workers about back pain. But they always go so fast! I can’t catch up with them. It’s better I didn’t go.

3:00 pm- I feel like my legs look excessively large today. I should have gone running.

4:00 pm- Great, because I skipped my lunch run I have to stay late at the gym.

5:15 pm- I feel guilty as I drive by my gym. It’s staring judgmentally back at me. Look away, gym. There is nothing to see here!

7:00 pm- Got my grocery shopping done. My running shoes are ogling me. I feel so darn guilty. Should I go to the gym or not? I am so darn tired.

7:30 pm- David asks me why I skipped gym. I hate it when he points things out. I skipped it. So what? He mumbles something about me constantly complaining about my weight and how I should go to the gym since we paid for it.

7:32 pm- We did pay for it but I am entitled to a break, aren’t I?

7:45 PM- I drive to the damn gym. The moment I start running I actually feel better. My body is thanking me. I needed this.

Picture Credit

No, thanks- you can keep the pill that will make me live longer

As I was reading the daily gossip news on Yahoo (yes, some people still use Yahoo), I came across an article about a pill which could prolong our lives to 120 years. Now, it sounds nice in theory, but do you really want to live to be 120?

Getting old sucks! Why don’t they find a way to prolong our youth (wink, wink) because that is when the good stuff is happening. Your skin is elastic, you don’t have back pain, you don’t have to take naps in the afternoon, you are excited about change, you actually want to do things…. What good will it do me if I am 120 years old suffering from Osteoporosis/Dementia/Parkinson’s and I’m in pain?

Being old is not fun. Visiting my Grandma, who is in her eighties and lives in a home, is a painful experience. I love seeing her, but knowing who she used to be and how she is now and how tiring life is for her… It’s terrible.

I guess what I am trying to say is I won’t take the pill if it ever becomes available. I don’t care if they slow down the process of aging- it is still not worth it to me. I will be happy with the amount of time I was given on this planet and will try to make the best of it. Without chemistry. With nature.

What about you? Would you take the pill?

P.S: Thanks for taking the time to read this blog! Much appreciated! ❤

Picture Credit