I slept well and have decent energy.

As part of my goal of cutting carbs, I’m going to drop my water flavor mixes, even though they were sugar-free, and try to drink just plain, boring water. I can think of at least five people who have sworn to me that drinking water has caused them to lose weight, but I don’t think anything I do will cause me to lose weight short of starving, and I’m certainly not going to do that. I won’t resort to drastic measures unless my A1C continues to climb to the point of needing medication, which I refuse to take.

For so long, I felt like something up there wants me to be hypo, if there’s anything up there, and that it also wants me to have sleep issues most of the time. Unless I’m just being ridiculously paranoid, maybe it wanted me to remain hypo so I would gain enough weight to drive myself into sleep apnea. If I were suddenly able to handle normal numbers, then I might lose enough weight to stop the sleep apnea. I really hope I’m just being ridiculous and that nothing up there could exist that has it in for me like that, because if it does, I’d say there’s a damn good chance I’m pretty doomed in the afterlife if there is one.

Jumping to the before life, or present life, or whatever you want to call it, I think back to those younger days full of adventure, hope, possibilities, and whatnot. While I don’t miss these days for the most part, since a lot of it was negative, I still sit here and think at times, my God, is this what the rest of my life is going to be? It’s a great life, don’t get me wrong, but I get up and pretty much do the same things every single day. There is no room for nearly as much hope or possibilities simply because I’m beyond that point in life or have different goals and interests than I used to.

A part of me misses the suspense and wonderment that would come with those times, even if they weren’t nearly as good and as stable as they are now. It seems it’s either fun and adventure, even if that can also mean disaster, or calm predictability with little to no change. Realistically, I know the latter is better and safer.

So for the next 18 years or so, I’ll get up, update my journal, do my hobbies, get paid to do studies even if it isn’t much, cook, clean, and go to doctor’s appointments and stores. I won’t have an active social life because I’m not interested in one and I don’t trust people. I won’t go on vacations every year because I don’t have the money. I won’t have fun flirting with crushes and incorporating them into my stories because I don’t have the hormones. I won’t move to a bigger place because I don’t have the money. I won’t move to my dream home in my dream location because I really don’t have the money. I won’t win things like I used to because the competition is a million times worse than it was 20 years ago.

So what do I have to report in my wonderfully stagnant life? Just a dream of vacationing with Jessie. It was some tropical location and we were staying in a cottage on the beach. I was dressed in a sundress. The windows were open and a beautiful warm breeze flowed through the place. I thought it would be a great day for a swim. I headed out through a slider and onto the shore of the beach when I noticed an orca whale swimming not too far from the shore and yelled to Jessie to get her phone and take a picture. By the time she ran out with it, along with her two dogs, it had swum further out and others gathered to see it.

Then we headed back inside, and she said something about cooking dinner. I said that would be great and I would cook next time.