On Sunday I chose to start exercising again — pullups, pushups, chest flies, arm curls, crunches. Yesterday and today, the consequences were obvious any time I moved anything above my waist. Long term, I’ll be stronger and leaner and healthier, and I don’t regret doing it (though I do regret taking such a long break from which I am now attempting to recover), but short term, OW.
On Monday I chose to go out to dinner with a visiting friend. The consequences, in negative terms, will be obvious as I try to fit more work (professional and personal) into fewer weekday evenings. But it was worth it, in terms of the “consequences” of choosing to live the kind of life I want to live. Would I be happier, better, healthier if I’d stayed in my office and worked, or sat and did financial chores on the couch instead of going out with Anna? Hell no. Will I feel a little more pressured now? Absolutely. Am I absolutely certain I did the right thing, despite the pressured feeling? Yes. Consequences.
Today I chatted with a friend about a piece of the Venn diagram that is my social life, and I noted that the piece in question, no matter how much I’d love to, is a thing I can’t and won’t ever do so long as some other people are involved. That’s the result of choices I made about my life four years ago, the consequences of which keep echoing back to me. Short term and long term, they were the right choices for me. I’m happier, better, and more whole than I was when I started this particular path. But short term and long term… choices have consequences. And there’s a path that’s cut off, for me, because I chose to walk this one. And that makes me a little sad.