72 Degrees

Vital stats:

Day 22 of abstinence.
Thirteen pounds lost, from 262 to 249.
Room temperature: 72 degrees.
Outside temperature: 87 degrees, 40% humidity.

I have survived 80% of the air conditioner crisis and the new unit is holding steady . I have rarely felt as profoundly grateful as I have in the last week.

A total stranger overheard me wondering if it was a bum machine or the Edison-era electricity to blame and he came over with industrial strength extension cords & got it working on a different socket with the advice that I needed a real electrician to work on the fuse box. The Real Electrician finally came yesterday & in 10 minutes the A/C was plugged into its dedicated socket & having my computer & lights on was no longer a risk. I still have to have it re-installed with a sleeve & some major carpentry work to fix the wall, but I have had a refuge from the heat that was sorely missing.

I can't remember the last time I had three weeks of abstinence. I see it less a steel-willed thing than a grace bestowed without deserving it.

OK, maybe I deserve it. I do the abstinent shopping & food preparation, I stay in touch with my sponsor, I do meetings. But the willingness to do this is not mine.

Going through four days of a heat wave without the A/C definitely underlined what my weight is & also made it impossible for me to eat sugar, which gives me the sweats -- the last thing I need. And the difficulty of staying abstinent has underlined the need for simplicity in my life.

Like everyone, I tend to make huge lists of things I have to do each day. These lists become my task master as much as my food plan or sugar or the scale or the heat dominates me. No air conditioning, & then fragile air conditioning, meant I had to slow down. There was no way I was going to fold hot laundry or saute greens. I couldn't even see my computer well enough for serious writing in long stretches. I started taking things off my list that didn't have anything to do with basics: my 12-step commitments, finances, food. I was tired not only from the heat but from moving furniture every day and from the stress. It's taken me a week to begin to get interested in writing, cleaning, being social.

I like the lessons, however. My reaction to the heat bolstered my commitment to lose weight; the Crisis smacked me back to basics; crawling out of the Crisis has allowed me to choose what to put back on my list. I learned that I can't be overwhelmed or get what I want when I want it. It took 10 days to go from a 90-degree dark apartment to a cool, amply-lit apartment & I really tried to make it go faster & I'm not yet done. It took the time it took.

My first sponsor said when I began abstinence, "Put on the bedroom slippers." I didn't quite know what that meant but it's been in front of me a lot in the last 10 days. It's akin to those other expressions that raise the hair on my neck -- "be gentle with yourself," "be good to yourself," etc. This has been a time I had no other choice but to take it easy, keep things basic, be grateful -- very grateful. Cool air, lights, enough money to pay bills, going to Map Quest & figuring out that the no-frills distance of my dogs is now 5.5 miles a day. If I'd known that ahead of time, I would have flipped. I'm glad I did that investigation after I got used to walking to Henry's new apartment one neighborhood over.

I'd like to think that the Crisis Lessons won't fade. I'd like to think back on this time as one in which I had to be patient & in the moment & by being those things, I had to forgive my tasks of omission. If I can forgive myself for not working on my novel, maybe I can forgive myself some of the other gunk that's been plugging up my chi -- & my mouth.

Happy weekend, everyone!