MIMM: Old Job, New Job

I’m linking up with Katie today because things have been marvelous around these parts. Here are some updates about the last days at the old job and the first days at the new job.

I am already so awkward but these goodbyes at the old job! Super weird. Especially because the majority of them were people that I liked and got along with, but knew I wouldn’t keep in contact with. Ya know? One person advised to “enjoy your life”, and I was like “Errr. Okay. Yeah. Will do. Thanks.”

I chose not to tell old job co-workers where my next job was, since my new company is owned by an (old job) competitor. So, when people at work asked, I said “I’d rather not say”. My dad and friends assured me over and over this was a standard practice, but I still felt like such a sketch-ball saying it. The reactions varied from, “What? Why? Did you sign a NDA? Is it not official? Well that’s weird, why won’t you say? When will we find out? That’s silly!” were a few of my favorite reactions. I still haven’t updated my LinkedIn because co-workers from the last job are blowing up my profile with views. Mwahaha.

About the new job! I’m doing social media full-time. It is SO great so far, but it’s only been a week, haha. The first week week was a lot of training and orientation. I am just trying to familiarize myself with ALL THE INFORMATION. So much information. And so many faces and names that I somehow cannot grasp despite writing notes like “julie – yellow shirt”. Well, the next day when Julie probably isn’t wearing a yellow shirt? No clue who she is. I’ve found myself wishing for the month to go fast so I feel more acclimated and am more settled because I really like it so far and can’t wait to get up to speed and feel like I grasp everything.

The interview story. It’s classic. It spread to a bunch of people in the office and it’s fun to hear their side of it. Apparently everyone was gathered around the interviewers’ desk, trying to find out what was going on, while she was on the phone with me. A few people commented my first day “We were all trying to get you here [that interview day]! We were so pulling for you!” Anyway, the crazy interview was a really good intro. When meeting people, they’d jokingly ask “How was your drive? Was your drive better than last time?” And it was the perfect springboard to banter back and forth, and circumvent the repetitive “hi, nice to meet you”.

Unlike my old job, there are lots of people my age and they’re all so nice and funny. A bunch of them invited me out to the Orioles game with them on Friday night. I was really nervous as I’m definitely still very much in that “introverted new girl, no clue how I fit in, try not to kill them with awkward” phase. I may or may not have given myself a pep talk on the way there that consisted of “just be cool, for God’s sake!!!” But, and I’m trying not to sound manic, I really did have so much fun. It was one of the best nights I’ve had out in a loooong time. 

Right now I’m sitting down the hall from all the people my age, seated with the summer temps, who are gone all day. It’s pretty isolating and lonely. BUT! In a few weeks, we’re all rearranging so I will be closer to them. It will be good.

My new building is huge, and it also has something I’m super pumped about: a cafeteria! I haven’t seen it yet, since I’m sure I’ll get lost, and nobody in training has time for that. But in time. I don’t have high expectations for it, but still. A cafeteria!! I’ll keep you posted on this exciting milestone.

I used to work 7-3:30 and it was the best. I freaking loved it. I didn’t realize how much I loved it until I didn’t work it anymore. I would be home by 4 pm and I’d have an hour in the kitchen by myself to make tomorrow’s meals and throw something together for dinner. I went to my weekly happy hours at my favorite bar at 4:30, and it was the best to be there before any crowds. Have I said yet it was the best? My last week at my old job I was a little bored and ordered some bras off Amazon. I definitely was not thinking about my new hours and that I wouldn’t be the one to pick the package up from the neighbor. My roommate (the guy) had to pick up my packages with a label that loudly proclaimed they were from Lingerie Diva. Cringe.

Now I work 9-5:30. I am adjusting. It is exciting to have more flexibility in the morning. I can sleep later, I have extra time to make a smoothie, I can go to more morning fitness classes. The first day, it was incredibly weird to be sitting at my desk at 3:30 and realize I had TWO MORE HOURS remaining, but so far it really isn’t too bad. For my first week I kept waking up at 6 a.m because I was so panicked that I’d somehow still be late. I’d just watch TV because I didn’t want to risk falling back asleep and not getting up. Dear Routine…. I miss you desperately but we’ll figure it out.

Saturday morning, I went to Rev for Mary’s barre class. I was so excited to hear they were adding it to the class schedule. With my new hours, I can’t make it to her class at my gym anymore. But Saturdays at 9 am? No bueno. I was a little hungover from the Orioles game and put on an even more miserable performance in class then my usual horrible standards. I really like barre though so I hope to make it out to her class every week!

Whew, that was a lot. Thanks to Katie for hosting and have a marvelous day.

Ten Years

What is wrong with me? I post “why I’ve been blogging less but oh don’t worry I’ll still be around!!!”…then I run away. I suck.

I thought the internet was lacking in a sentimental post so here I am to save the day and make all the readers in the place with style and grace…cringe. In the spring of 2004, I was in 8th grade. Throughout grade school I played field hockey (fall), basketball (winter), softball (spring). I mostly did it because my friends did it and I had (still have?) FOMO- fear of missing out. Softball was far and away my least favorite, so I finally decided to ~live for me~ and quit so I could enjoy the remaining of my 8th grade days because I assumed life would be SUPER stressful in omg high school. I think I announced my retirement in a dramatic AIM away message. Maybe with Something Corporate lyrics.

Suddenly I had hours free! So much spare time! It was wonderful….and it jumpstarted the problem I’d have for the next decade. Too much spare time, nothing to do, so I started eating. I ballooned. I’d always been tall for my age, but by 8th grade, everyone had grown and I had stopped. At 5’2 (maybe 5’3 if you’re in a generous kind of mood). I graduated as the 11th shortest girl (I commemorated this in my diary so that’s how you know it rocked me to my core) and undeniably a little bit bigger. I remember my mom asking me once “You’re eating again? Are you sure? There’s a pool party coming up.” I was like “What? Yes I am hungry. I’ll be ready for the pool party, GEEZ MOM.” Lo and behold, a few weeks later, I wasn’t ready for that pool party. I didn’t go in the pool. I wore a two piece but never took my cover-up off. When my friends went in the pool, I sat or went to the bathroom to pretend to fix my hair or something.

I quit softball and filled my spare time with mindless snacking. A habit I have yet to break.

It’s hard to accept that it’s been ten years since that spring. I’ve written over and over in lengthy, painful, rambling posts about how I feel my weight and eating habits have held me back. It’s sobering to realize that a whole decade passed where I hated my body, ate more because I hated my body, and yet I didn’t have “it” to change. “It” meaning: the willpower, the mental fortitude, the knowledge of nutrition or how my body worked, the desire to learn all that, etc. I was miserable for so long about how my body looked so I’d eat to cheer myself up after a dismal shopping trip with my mom when I wanted to wear cute, stylish clothes that hugged my body and instead went with flimsy, flowy blouses or to fill a void when I saw my friends in relationships. Whatever. The list and the drama can go on (and probably does in multiple posts on this blog).

I’ve officially been blogging about my grand weight loss attempt for a year. I’ve done really well, then let myself have a reward “just one cheat day” on a Saturday which turned into a Sunday resolve of “ehhh just make it a cheat WEEKEND” that turned into eating poorly on Monday and Tuesday, but I couldn’t re-start healthy eating and living on a Wednesday! That was dumb! So NEXT MONDAY it would begin! Or when I didn’t feel like prepping healthy meals, figuring out what groceries I needed and then actually grocery shopping.

I’ve re-started with the resolve, then stopped, then taken forever to re-start again so many times over the past year. This particular winter has been brutal when I just couldn’t make myself get up to go to the gym and so hibernated in my house binging because it was too cold! The last week has been better, and I realize NOW that I really can’t let myself off the hook too much with “cheat days” because otherwise it just turns into one big, binge-y freefall. Should it have taken me so embarrassingly long? Probably not.

The last year has been one of so much learning, so much stopping, and eventually re-starting. All that matters is the re-start happens and I’m a lot more motivated than ever. Realizing it’s been a DECADE like this helps. Turning 25 in May helps.

It’s been 10 years but it won’t make it to my favorite number 11 🙂

It’s The Freaking Weekend

…..I love them so much, yet they are one of my roadblocks in getting fit.

So I used to struggle with eating healthily during all days of the week but the work week was really hard. Preparation is not my thing. Thinking ahead? Nope. Never has been my style. I wouldn’t pack enough food and I’d get hunger headaches and slump around the office for hours that felt endless or I would just get Skittles and an Almond Joy bar from the vending machine.

I’m finally, finally, finally getting better at eating healthy doing the week. I plan out all my meals and get ‘er done. But now, the weekends. Suddenly I’m 100 times worse on the weekends than I ever was during the work week.

I know that the problem is too much free time, which makes me laugh because I love the weekends for that very reason.

On weekends I really just…have nothing to do. So I eat. It’s something to do. And what I eat on the weekends, I guarantee, is never healthy. It’s always a “bad” food choice and it’s always a LOT of it. I know binge-eating is one of my problems. I know I’m eating because I’m bored, but I can’t seem to talk myself out of it. I knew it was a bigger problem than I thought it was when I woke up last Saturday morning and thought “Oooh. I can go to CVS and buy some unhealthy snack to eat today. My roommates are still asleep so they won’t see me come back into the house with it.” A low point. I’m planning on sneaking back in with junk food, like I’m smuggling drugs. I didn’t want to be caught and I didn’t want to feel ashamed. Way to be, self. Way.to.be. That’s also another alarming facet – that I willingly leave my house to buy bad food. And I don’t talk myself out of it for the 2 blocks that it takes to walk there.

It’s a problem, and I know this. I know it when I’m shoving food down my throat and I feel worse afterward, but then the next weekend rolls around, and lo and behold, there’s bored Caitlyn. I don’t talk myself out of it because I want to do it and I declare that “I’ll burn it off!!! I’ll work-out extra hard!!”

The obvious solution seems to be – well, don’t be bored. Get a hobby moron. Do something. I already read a lot but even I can’t do that for however many waking hours I have.  I need a lot of alone time but maybe too much is too much on the weekends? Last year I used to go to the mall a lot, but this year I am on a girl on a budget. And it’s cold. I thought about going for a run a time or two, but then I’m all “Um well I don’t know where to run so that’s out.” I’ve lived here a year and a half now, and I still don’t know any running or walking routes.

It’s a low point and I’m just…over it. Over constantly putting myself in these positions and giving in and not overcoming. I’m so over figuring one thing out (like healthy eating during the work day) and then another thing comes popping up worse than before. Blah. I know this is all me and I’m forever writing posts like “wah I know it’s my fault but it’s hard and I can’t figure it out and I keep doing it”. I know.  That’s about all I have to whine about today.

The Way I Think

Hey. Thanks so so much for all your comments on my last post. Sometimes I wonder why I blog, then I read other peoples blogs, comments on other peoples blogs, comments on my own blog, and…I remember exactly why. To hear I’m not alone. I love social media and I also hate it because seeing everyone’s statuses squealing about getting promotions or getting the coolest job ever, Instagram pictures that feature the hashtag “#engaged” and whatever, gets me reallll down in the dumps. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for everyone and when I comment ‘congrats! happy for you!’ I mean it (most times), but sheesh, I hate that their happiness/success makes me feel like shit about myself. I feel angry and saddened that (it appears) everyone is moving forward yet I am like a hamster on the wheel that never gets anywhere, forever chilling on the very bottom. Being grateful every day is not something that comes easily to me. Neither does self-acceptance (believe me we know, think longtime readers of this blog).

I was thinking today about how I always dwell on all the things that I’m not and all the things I don’t have, instead of all the things that I am and all the things that I do have. What brought this revelation on was when I was at the mechanic/neighbors picking up our plentiful packages [oh the holiday season], and one of the mechanics said to me, “I thought you should know that when your package came today, as so-and-so signed for it, he said ‘Oh good, that means Caitlyn will come by today.’ We all look forward to your appearances because you make us laugh.” I was so stunned/touched by this, I think I stuttered a thank you, resorted to my standby self-deprecating humor bout how that’s the first time I ever heard somebody say they were looking forward to seeing me, we all laughed, I walked away smiling and hadn’t stopped smiling since. Whenever I’m at the neighbors, I am just trying to not be my always awkward self, and I never thought what they might see or take out of the brief exchange because I always just assume my jokes are stupid, that they’re counting the seconds until that awkward neighbor leaves. I always see the worst. I think I’m awkward, I’m always going to be awkward, but that’s not what other people necessarily see. These neighbors don’t know how I see myself.

I pout too often about how I don’t like my weight right now, but I ignore the positive changes I have made.  I was staring at my grocery cart in the check-out line the other day and I couldn’t believe that it was my cart, full of stuff picked out by ME. Two years ago I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you what egg whites were. Or why too much sodium was a problem. Or what almond milk was. Or what Greek yogurt was. and why it was different. Two years ago when I went to the grocery store, I completely ignored the perimeter of the grocery store. I never bought produce. Ever. I bought cookies, crackers, bagel bites, ice-cream, cheez-its, pop-tarts. All I drank was soda, alcohol and the occasional water with Crystal Light. I’m pretty confident that I never, ever, ever hit my suggested veggie intake. Now I fill my cart with egg whites, fat-free Greek yogurt, cranberries, spinach, bananas, strawberries, almonds, carrots. I think and care about things like my veggie intake everyday and make smoothies or small salads to accommodate if I realize it’s low. I pause to dwell on if I am drinking enough water – and sometimes, I even drink more water than recommended. I limit myself to one soda or one Crystal Light a week, and sometimes I go without them.

I get borderline depressed when I look at my bank account and remember how poor I am. But if I frame the situation another way,  I  feel proud that while my bank account doesn’t end with as many zero’s as I’d like it to, I’m living on my own in a new city, paying bills, and am still managing to save something.  When I moved to this city, I lived here for 4.5 months without any income. I’m proud that I managed to make it work and am still here making it work and learning about living on my own. I personally have a lot to learn about how to be an adult and live on my own.

Not only do I tend to have a distaste for where I am in my life and dwell on all the things that I’m presently not, I am guilty of pigeon-holing myself and accepting what I  let myself think I can never be. Make sense? Probably not. I know I hold myself back and don’t take chances because “well, obviously, that’s not for me, that’s for people cooler/more successful/more talented than me. I won’t be able to do that.” It’s sobering to realize I severely underestimate myself and cut myself off from fun things. Shouldn’t I be my own advocate? My biggest  cheerleader? It’s sad to realize I’m always my worst critic – and yes, I know I’m not alone in that. I’m training for a 12 miler in August (!!!!!) which I NEVER thought I’d do. Those kinds of things were obviously for runners only and I can never be a runner because .. hello..look at me, my name is Caitlyn, it’s not in my DNA, I suck at everything forever and ever amen. I’m still not 100% convinced I’ll be able to pull it off but I try to banish those thoughts and just focus on going a teensy bit further than I did yesterday.  I always thought it’d be so cool to be a half-marathoner but never pursued it because of who I thought I was and who I just accept that I am. Lazy, afraid, doomed, terrible at everything,hopeless. Yes, I’m lazy, but I can overcome that. Yes, I walked a nearly-20 minute mile in 7th grade and hated it every second, but why oh why still think about that 10 years later? It was a stupid grade school fitness test, it should have nothing to do with today, and the Caitlyn back then was most definitely not the Caitlyn of now. Thank God.

Really I get so angsty about how I’m not where I want to be, but I don’t stop to think about where I am, compared to where I  have been. Sure it’s not as fast and the results aren’t as sudden as I’d want them to be, but they are there. The littlest of results. Things – good things – will happen if I keep chugging along. Even if it feels like I’m getting nowhere. Good things are there. I just have to pay more attention and readjust what view I’m looking at.

MIMM: Runners Fest

Linking up with Katie for a terrible post about nothing.

My alarm went off at 6:04 yesterday morning and I laid there for a while thinking ‘What the hell is wrong with me? I am developing into a sick individual, setting alarms for fun.’ Then it dawned on me. Today was the day I was to give back to my community. Right. I was volunteering at the Baltimore Running Festival! Woohoo. It had poured for the previous three days here in Charm City so I pulled a hoodie on and wandered on down to the M & T Stadium at 7 right on the dot.

I was supposed to check in at “Celebration Village” and by village, they meant zoo. People everywhere. I managed to find the Info tent and lo and behold, volunteer check-in was at bag check on the other side of the parking lot. I found my people and was ready to complete my assigned tasks. The lady asked my name, I confidently gave it, and then she wrote it down with all the other volunteer names. Wtf? I registered months ago. They handed me a shirt and said ‘Have fun!’ I blinked at them and then said ‘Now what?’

‘Umm. Go see where you’re needed.’

Oh, okay. We’re only in a football stadium. I could be needed anywhere. I asked who I should be looking for.

‘People who need help.’

Wonderful. I gave up on this conversation and wandered off. This was a shock to my system because I managed events in college and a staff of 70 of my peers to manage freshmen move-in day. I assigned every second of their shift and carried around a master copy of everyones schedule. On my own lunch break, I was scanning Facebook and a girl I knew posted “Love reuniting with This Girl and That Girl! Hanging out in our apartment watching The Office! We tried to make cookies and ate mostly dough tehehehehe!” This Girl and That Girl were on the staff. I posted a comment on the status saying “Is that why they aren’t at their assigned stations for move-in day?” One of the girls called me and told me it was passive aggressive and uncalled for. I told her not to advertise on the Internet that she wasn’t doing the tasks she signed up to do. ..especially when the task you are supposed to be doing right now is handing out room keys to freshmen. Duh. At least bring me a cookie.

Anyway back to the present instead of yearning for the days when I could bark out orders ……I, of course, had no one else I was signed up with so I made a few laps of the Celebration Village looking for people that needed me. Difficult task. Awkwardly skulking around a football stadium parking lot on  my own….frighteningly typical.

I saw a group of volunteers far off so I meandered over their way and was told they already had too many people folding the foil ponchos. Fine. When I signed up to volunteer, I hadn’t envisioned myself folding ponchos anyway. I envisioned myself up on the podium dropping medals over the necks of chiseled, bare-chested men who thought this was the best day of their lives obvii.  Or doing something fun with a golf cart.

photo 1

the best of the fest, duh. she’s overdue for an eyebrow wax. excuse her.

I walked around for another ten ish minutes, convinced the security guards I kept passing were laughing at me, then saw a group of five volunteers in a pack following some guy with a clipboard. Perfect. I sidled up behind them and hoped this looked natural. The Food Tent. This I could do. There was a girl my age and she saw me and dropped back and said ‘Do you know what’s going on?’ Ah, my people. Her name was Jenny and she was nice so we silently agreed to be partners for the day. We opened up twelve hundred boxes of granola bars and olives (?). My nails are now in terrible shape from using them to slice upon all the boxes. Have you ever seen olives at a race? No, none of the runners had either. One runner asked ‘why olives?’ and I said something about salt which sounded smart and he accepted it. Or have you ever seen apples chopped in half? They were hideous. We did our assigned boxes and when one volunteer wandered up and said she was confused and where should she go, we said apples and ditched that table because I did not want to be associated with unappealing apples. I am a selfless volunteer.

photo 3

what.

Then we saw there was a water shortage – and I was mocked by all the other volunteers for my pronunciation of water – so we filled water cups. I turned it in into an exact science of ‘these people just ran for many many miles, how far should they have to stretch their arm to reach for a water cup?’. It’s an art. A water table is an art. It was very annoying how disorganized the volunteer side of things were. Volunteers kept walking up because they were looking for something to do. What. Runners were asking us all these questions that you would think we would know the answer to but no. Knew nothing.

I got to see Lauren straight off her first full! Crazy cool. Like a psycho I barreled right over to her the nanosecond I realized it was her and kinda yelled at her ‘LAUREN? HEY HOW DID IT GO!!!!!!!” A local teacher and cross country coach won, by the way, which was pretty awesome. Under Armour dropped their big title sponsorship this year (cue stephanie judith tanner: how rude) and thus there was no prize money, so no elite runners. But I love that a local guy won. I met a few of his students and they were adorable and so happy for him.  Erika Brannock was the honorary starter. She’s a local pre-school teacher who lost half her leg while standing near the finishing line waiting for her mom to finish the Boston marathon in April. Supposedly when she regained consciousness in the hospital, the first thing she asked was how were her students. She was worried about how they were going to react when they heard about her news.

Despite the disorganization, it was a fun day.  A marvelous day, if you will. There was a 5k, a relay, a half, a full and a kids fun run…so many runners. Sooo many runners. 27,000 runners. They were all super gracious and thankful. I saw allllllllll the people with medals around their necks and I was jealous. And motivated. Since I have been saying I want to run a half someday, I am henceforth declaring that I am going to try and aim for the Baltimore half 10/18/2014 at the ripe old age of 25 (!) and 5.5 months. Obviously don’t write it down or anything, give me some time to come up with some far-fetched excuses of why I can’t 😉 Either way……

6

1. do you volunteer at races?

2. favorite post-race snack? i know it’s olives.

3. favorite race?

4. favorite race song? i love a good pump-up.

When I Get There

What’s waiting for me? Who am I going to be?

I know, this is ridiculous and I don’t blame you if you think “why does this girl so willingly plaster allllll over the internet that she’s totally loony tunes?”.  I’m only trying to lose 15-ishhhh pounds so this shouldn’t be such a drastic overhaul, but being an analytical worrier is kinda my thing. For so long, I’ve always chalked all of my insecurities to being overweight. “I’ll be better at speaking in meetings if I’m thinner”, “I’ll be a better flirt when I’m not overweight”, “I’ll be more confident when I’m thin”, ‘I won’t think everyone’s judging/laughing at me if I’m thin”, et cetera, et cetera. The extra weight I lug around has always been a defense mechanism, of sorts. I’ve always been convinced that I’m so insecure because of my weight. And if I lost the weight, I’d be more confident, have more fun, let loose, not so easily intimidated and whatnot. For example, in my lackluster love life—if I’m a little overweight, no guy could want me so I never have to face rejection.

Here’s what I know:

  • I’m not expecting that when I am fitter that I’ll be a totally different person who suddenly hates Goldfish or realizes my calling to join Scientology. I know that I’ll still be Caitlyn who needs plenty of alone time and is forever addicted to the terrible, terrible, terrible Bravo shows. I’m not going to suddenly be !!omgzz so happy!! after a magic number appears on the scale
  • I am well aware that being thinner is not the Be All End All and losing pounds doesn’t change how you think.
  • Working at being healthy is a forever thing. It’s never really going to be a done deal. I’ll be constantly adjusting and changing my goals and routines. Note to Future Caitlyn regarding the changing routines because Present Caitlyn is a moody creature of habit who loathes starting anything new and adjusting to new routines: this.is.a.good.thing.relax.
  • Let’s face it, I (and most people) will probably never really be 100% happy. If it’s not my legs, it’ll be my arms.  If it’s not my arms, it’ll be my abs. If it’s not my abs, it’ll be shoulders. And so it goes on and on. Everyone, no matter what size, has issues or causes of unsatisfaction.

I can’t help but wonder. For sooooo long now, I’ve always thought thinner me= happier me.  I think I took so long (almost 10 years!) in delaying making my health and body a priority because I was (am) scared of what I might find if I was to shed the extra weight. I just might find that when I was fit, I would still largely be unhappy with my appearance and that I would still be an insecure mess. If I was thinner/fitter, I’d lose my safety net. The blame game is one of my favorites and what do I blame then? I pin being overweight on practically everything: no, he wasn’t interested, I’m overweight,  I’m scared of practically everything because I’m overweight, I’m shy because I’m overweight. To lose that would mean I’d be more vulnerable and have to accept ME. It’s scary.

The last time I was thin I was in grade school – 8th grade. I played a sport every season just because all my friends were. And in 8th grade, we all quit so we could “live it up” (like our idol Ja Rule) as much as you can when you’re 13. I had more free time than ever and found myself mindlessly snacking and subsequently ballooning. For most of the crucial, maturing  years, I just slotted myself into the funny, kind-of-overweight kid who was content to fade into the background and let everyone else get allll the attention because oh I’m not thin like they are and I don’t want to be in the spotlight so that way I won’t feel judged slot. I don’t know (and don’t want to know) if that’s how other people in real life perceive me, but it’s how I perceive me and I’ve found I’m my own worst enemy. It’s weird: I’ve been fervently wishing the extra pounds away for so long, but now that I’m actively working toward it, I’m all panic! (at the disco) thinking ‘but what am I going to do when it leaves?’

I worry I don’t know how to be thin. I don’t know who I am thin. Does that make any sense? Probably not but if you’ve read here before then you likely know that logic isn’t my style and over thinking with a generous side of dramatic is.  This is the classic diagnosis: fear of success and fear of the unknown.  I’m just trying to figure out my best self and finding a balance, but I guess that’s what we’re all doing, isn’t it? Si.

(puh-leez don’t bother sending me e-mails saying I’m self-absorbed and/or seeking compliments as the second part is not correct,  n-o-t what the post is about or the discussion I’m interested in engaging in. Kthxbai. 🙂 ).