The Waist of the Matter.

I put on my jeans which I bought last year and it fit me perfectly. I checked around the waist and it was an exact fit, as if the pants were tailor-made to my size.

I suffered from mild panic.

Rewind a year ago and I still remember my friend and colege blockmate asking me for my size. I told her I was a 28, but normally wear a 29. I'm not much of a fan of tight fits. Knowing better, blockmate insisted that I buy size 30, claiming that it would fit better. Inwardly, I suspected that she doesn't carry odd sizes, thus her insistence in stocks two sizes larger than my actual fit. I didn't bother to argue.

A year has passed since then, and I find myself filling my jeans perfectly at the waist. Living it day to day, I almost didn't realize how much I have foregone this year in terms of extra-curricular and physical activity. Strenuous and excessive amounts of overtime took its toll and has now presented me with a weakened state of physique.

I used to play volleyball regularly twice a week, and when late last year, I met a group of mountaineers, I began joining minor treks and beach outings. I was at my best form then; I felt taller, my scoliosis didn't seem to bother me anymore. I was reading faster and more varied authors, even.

Then the Circus started.

I began losing contact with most of my groups. My twice-weekly volleyabll was replaced with daily overtime. My monthly treks were replaces with weekend overtime. What's even more perplexing was that the more time I render at the Great Place, the more work seemed to pile up. My morning stretch routine was replaced with extended wallowing under the covers; my games replaced by irregular rotations of binge-eating and meal-skipping.

They say it takes at least three weeks to form a habit. I can't even comit two days straight to relearn my morning stretches. Thus, I'm stuck with a screaming spine, prolonged mornings of lethargy, and two inches gained in nine months.

Loss of self esteem doesn't even begin to describe what I'm suffering. I've become alienated from my groups and I only have myself to blame.

A few days ago, Brunswick paid me a surprise visit at the Great Place. He was at the area and decided to rescue me from my mundane existence, if even for a few minutes. Quick updates about the various people I lost contact with ensued, and I was cornered into promising to rejoin the group in the near future. I appreciate Brunswick's going out of his way to reconnect with me. I plan to repay his efforts by re-establishing with my network. My days of wallowing are long overdue, and it needs to stop, effective immediately.

I need to move once more, and in more ways than one.

Shirking Responsibilities: Villainy

The problem with being responsible is you are expected to sustain the role indefinetely. The moment you exhibit lapses in your role, you immediately become the villain.