So far, I have to say my new job has been going exceptionally well. The hardest part of it, I think, is getting up in the morning consistently and making myself presentable and at least semi-coherent by the time I have to be at Bennie's to carpool into the office. Working with someone I know has been great; it's really helped me get into the swing of things quickly. It doesn't hurt that he's been a good teacher, giving me enough to do that I'm almost never bored while not giving me so much that I feel overwhelmed by the amount on my plate.

I got my first paycheck today, which was exceptionally nice. I do have to say, though, that I wish it were higher. It's still weird to think of the fact that I'm now making about three-fourths of my previous salary, and only gettings two paychecks a month instead of one every two weeks (twenty-four pay periods, instead of twenty-six) makes that nice "bonus paycheck" a thing of the past. Still, that would really have to be the only major downside to my job, and with the perk of getting lunch on the company dime, I'm probably still coming out even.

Actually, having the company order lunch has been an exceptional boon to my budget, because I'm dieting again. Between the depression of being out of work, and the bad attitude borne of not wanting to think about stressful
things while I had other, more important, stressful things about which to worry, I found one morning recently that the scale said "EE" when I stood upon it. Now, that could be considered one of my goals, but not that one, and it was a rather rude shock. I always said, at least to myself, that I would never break three-hundred again, and I had. So, now I eat a diet-food breakfast, a diet-food dinner, and have my one decent meal at the company's expense. This means that when Lean Pockets are on sale, I'm only spending two dollars a day on food, plus whatever diet soda costs if the fridge at work is empty.

The utter lack of self-pity that staying true to oneself and one's values requires is, I think, one of the hardest things in life to have and to keep. I find it far too easy to wallow in self-deprecation and bemoan what has not gone my way, rather than actually fix things and keep them fixed. Things that take constant and repetitive maintenence, especially ones that aren't fun in and of themselves, are very difficult for me. Dieting isn't just once; it's for life. I am not the sort of person that, once at an ideal weight, can eat whatever whenever and not gain it all back. Keeping up with dilation and exercise has been difficult as well, despite the desirability of the end-goals, because the path to get there is work. Even DDR hasn't been "fun," though I do enjoy the activity, at least for a while.

Someone asked me recently, "what is Hare?" The question seems like a non sequitur, but the answer isn't. To me, hare is the admission of helplessness. She's the recognition and divestiture of defense mechanisms, lies, deceits and self-absolutions. She is not that which leads me astray, but that which lets me recognize when I have led myself astray, and then bring myself back.

Through Hare, I find within myself the courage to stand naked, stripped of self-delusion. There is much about myself that I do not like, but I have the strength to recognize these things, not to hide from them. I hate dieting, but I hate being fat. I hate dilating, but I hate being too tight and too shallow. I hate exercising, but I hate being out of shape. In Hare, I have the power to admit these things, and to work on fixing them. Hare is not the solution, but she is the understanding of the problem.

Nobody stays in Atlantis by faking reality in any manner whatsoever.