Edit: I miscalculated my BMI change since the outset of project in the first iteration of this post and have since fixed it. My bad!
I resist routine and I crave it. I am two separate women. One wants to do exactly the same thing, every day. She wants to fraternize with no one outside of a single, regulated, monthly Fraternizing Event, eat the same rotation of regulated and nutritionally appropriate meals, descend into sleep at precisely 9 PM and rise with the sun at 5 the next morning. This woman is calm, collected, and quiet. She has had her Big Fun. She needs little more of it. Instead, she has meditation, and weight training, and the simple joy of slicing zucchini. She is grateful for the time she has. She makes the most of it.
The other woman I am could not be more horrified by this. If you wanted a life of routine and regulation, why didn’t you become an accountant? Scoffs this woman, picking at her fingernails with a switchblade, crouching on a low wall, or something, because sitting in a chair is for losers. This woman uses accountant like it’s a dirty word.
Accountants are fine, says the first woman, quietly. She is eyeing the clock nervously. She is 4 minutes late for her next Activity Block. This first woman, she dresses like a victorian librarian — in high collars, and long skirts. It started for the melanoma and became its own thing. Our grandfather was an accountant before he retired. We love our grandfather.
Yeah but it isn’t — the second woman has produced a bag of beef jerky from somewhere. This jerky will be her only nutrition for the day. She has stabbed a piece of jerky with her switchblade. She bites into it, menacingly, and takes a few wild-eyed and open-mouthed chomps. It isn’t punk rock! she finishes, triumphantly, around the beef jerky. She speaks with the evangelical conviction of religious fanatics, punks, and political radicals. The first woman finds this all very juvenile and pathetic.
You need to cover your skin more, says the first woman.
Are you slut shaming me?
What are you going to do if you get melanoma again?
The second woman has a cigarette now. Die of cancer, like a cool person.