The missing balance

Zzzzzzz. ZZZzzzz. What is that? The alarm on my phone doesn't make a buzzing sound: it sounds like those really old phones from the days of Dick Tracy where the ringing knocks the handle off the holder. ZZzzz. Zzzzzz. Pulsing. A pulsing buzz. At this point I'm not sure if it is just in my head or echoes of construction outside my window. Perhaps a mix of the two.

I flail my arm over the side of the over sized desk poised at the side of my bed in search of my phone. I'm not even sure you can call it a desk, but rather some junction between a desk and an entertainment center. 8:30. Damn, up late again. I'd better get going or I'll have to taxi to work. Just one more minute.... Zzzzzz

When I get up in the morning I always first throw my legs over the side of my bed to sit up. Some people sit up with their legs straight out still, but that position always leads to me falling back onto the pillow. I sit up. ZZZZZZZZZ. The buzzing grows louder - so it was in my head. Sit up. Sit ups have gotten increasingly harder for me in the last year. No longer are there six rock-like muscles pulling me effortlessly out of my hibernating position. Now those rocks have gone into their own hibernation behind a wall of cushion. I'm not fat, well at least not in American standards, and my overall figure is actually quite a bit leaner than in the past, but it's less chiseled and hard. I'm now a teddy bear instead of an action figure.

Standing up is a different story. Standing, no matter the weight I'm carrying on my shoulders at the time, has never been a problem. I stand up effortlessly. I walk into the bathroom for my morning expulsion and glance into the mirror. There is someone faintly familiar staring back at me, but he is quite a bit older and is showing signs of frailty - slightly protruding stomach, a face full of hair, red eyes from a late night of work, and slightly pudgy cheeks. The signs of youth still shine through when you glance down (a little farther) - yes the legs. My legs are still as strong as ever with every detail pronounced. Standing is easy, but sitting up is hard. How did this happen?

I brush my teeth, put in my contacts, and head back into my room to get dressed. Opening my wardrobe I am a little surprised - there is nothing inside. Oh right, half of my laundry is hanging up to dry still as I can never seem to get into a good rhythm between wearing and washing, there always seems to be more wearing going on. Last week just before my soccer game I discovered for the second week in a row that I had not washed my uniform. It reeked of all the sweat and dirt that accumulates while playing sports, on top of the dust and smoke that is natural to Beijing air and the slight scent of mildew that follows everyone around due to having washers and no dryers. The scent of mildew is usually filtered out by our brains, but some days, especially on days where my head is buzzing, I can smell it strong and clear. That was one of those days.

There is a pile of clothes on my chair - none pass the smell test, so I proceed to the hung up laundry and pray that there is something dry. Yes, a dry grey shirt. Not exactly business casual, but I don't work in a professional business environment anyway - we can dress however we want, so I'll put this on and be done with it. BzzzZzzz. The buzz is still there, although a little faint. I try not to think about the havoc and chaos of my laundry system, but it is sitting right in front of my face like a neon-sign: If we had a dress code, I would fail. Or would I? I've always been a "play to the level of your opponent" kind of soccer and Starcraft player, other things in my life are very similar. At work if no one is working, I can only keep up my motivation for a short time before sinking down and jumping on the bandwagon. When playing games there is an obvious difference in my level of play when playing with casual players and serious players. I'm a chameleon of a strange sort. You good me good. You bad me bad. If you don't have a dress code and 90% of the people at work don't wash their clothes, me no do laundry (to a semi-acceptable level).

Achoo. It seems I've caught a cold. Could be from staying up until 3am working for the past 3 nights, or perhaps it's from leaving the air conditioner on for so long; most likely it's a combination of the two. I grab my bag and head to the door. Looking back I wonder what happened. Have I always been this way? There is an obvious lack of balance. My legs are hard and strong, but my stomach has softened. I work until 3am, but my laundry has piled up to the ceiling. I can stand up but I cannot sit up. Shouldn't sitting up come first? Life changes so fast; just two months ago I was calling on myself to learn to relax and be patient. Now I look back and see that this order of things is quite chaotic. It's time to find a balance.