7 Easy Steps to Gain 20 Pounds

1. Skip breakfast.  Coffee counts as breakfast, right?  Just drink that coffee then.  In fact, have two cups.

2.  At 10am when you realize you’re so hungry you could chew your arm off, hit the vending machine.  Choose the Cherry Cheese Danish because it’s breakfasty.  Notice that the Danish has 450 calories.  Ignore that fact.  Eat the whole thing on the way back to your desk.  -OR-

3.  Skip that 10am vending machine trip and try to holdout until a reasonable lunchtime.  At noon, head for Subway to get something healthy.  On the way to Subway, realize that Subway is totally inconvenient because you have to *gasp* get out of your car to procure your chow.  Hit McDonalds instead.  “#2, no pickles, no mustard, and sweet tea to drink”.

4.  At 6pm head home and collapse onto the couch.  Think about dinner options.  Your day was so terrible you just want comfort food and you’re in luck: YOU’RE A FOODIE!  There are so many options to choose from.  You can cook them or you can go out for dinner.

5.  Crap!!  You “forgot” to go to the gym.  Oh well.  Tomorrow is a new day.  Pour a second glass of wine instead.

6.  9pm and you’re hungry.  Look past those healthy snacks in the fridge (they always seem to go bad and get thrown out…) and go straight for leftover fried chicken.

7.  If you wake up hungry in the middle of the night eat half of something ridiculous and feed your dog the other half.  If you sleep until morning wake up and REPEAT.

Voilà!  Your clothes no longer fit so you’ve bought a new wardrobe, you wouldn’t be caught dead in a bikini, you have no energy so the gym is completely out of the question, and you feel pretty shitty about yourself.

Life on an Air Mattress: 3 Lessons I’ll Never Forget

My twenties began and ended on an air mattress.  Not particularly glamorous.

I entered my twenties having recently moved out of my dad’s house into a downtown Minneapolis apartment.  The place was absolutely fantastic and, admittedly, a little out of my price range (even with roommates).  I spent the first several months there sleeping on an air mattress while I saved up to buy an actual bed.  I’m sure many of you entered your twenties in a similar situation.

What I wasn’t expecting was for the ending of my twenties to also occur on an air mattress.  After all, during the course of the past 10 years I’ve earned my bachelor’s degree, worked my way up the corporate ladder to a management position, and even hustled to work additional part time jobs from time to time.  The second air mattress experience never should have happened.

In November of 2010 I was living in Dallas, TX.  I was missing my hometown of Minneapolis more and more, and my job kept getting worse and worse.  Late in the month, several signs started popping up that I should really go back “home” to Minneapolis.  It was one of those situations in which everything was lining up just right and it was hard to ignore what the universe was telling me.  After much discussion with my roommate (also a Minneapolitan at heart) we decided to take a leap of faith and move back home.

We started planning.  We applied for jobs in Minneapolis, got an apartment lined up, and hired a moving company.  My roommate got an offer and accepted a position.  Things seemed to be going very well.

On December 26^th the movers arrived to pack us up and move our belongings north.  This is where things started to go wrong.  The team of movers showed up 7 hours late.  The estimate we received hadn’t included packing supplies, and the pricelist we received (after the movers had already started boxing up our things) was outrageous.  Our initial estimate was based on pounds and the movers switched it to cubic feet telling us it would be a better deal.  All in all, our new estimate after all of our belongings were loaded onto the truck was over $1,000 more than our initial estimate.  OUCH.

We planned to leave town the next day (I had a face-to-face interview coming up in Minneapolis and my roommate’s job would be starting in just a few days), and we understood that it could take up to 10 days for our belongings to arrive in Minneapolis.  We were each prepared with suitcases containing several days worth of clothes in case the movers took the full 10 days.  We also had air mattresses so we could avoid sleeping directly on the floor until our beds came.  I thought we were pretty well prepared.

Ultimately, our belongings were not delivered within the 10 day window.  10 days passed, then 15, then 20.  We researched the moving company (a step we should have taken before the move) and discovered multiple complaints against them, a BBB rating of F, and problems with their license to transport household goods across state lines.  We read accounts of consumers having their belongings held “hostage” by their movers, and moving trucks full of household goods being impounded.  We began to wonder if we would ever see our things again.

We had very few comforts during this time period.  Air mattresses, a TV and a DVD player.  The air mattress was my bed, my sofa, and my dining room table.  The floor was freezing cold and the air mattress seemed to suck up the cold and deposit directly into my back.  My roommate actually slept in her winter coat one night.

Finally on January 21^st the moving company delivered our shipment.  Most of our furniture was broken, our Wii and our vacuum cleaner were missing, our boxes of dishes (marked “fragile”) arrived upside down and banged up and the movers were utterly unapologetic.  I didn’t care:  the drama was over and I knew where my possessions were.

While there were a lot of lessons to be learned about how to choose a reputable moving company, those were the least important things I took away from the experience.  My life on an air mattress taught me far more important lessons in life.  It was a truly humbling experience on many levels.

1.  Food is a valuable commodity.

If you know me or have ever read my blog, you know how much I love food.  I love going out to eat, trying out new recipes, chopping mountains of vegetables, and being able to cook whatever I’m craving.  This behavior changed drastically during my life on an air mattress.  As we began to realize that we might never see any of our possessions again, we tightened our belts and cut back on our spending (after all, I didn’t have a job yet, and there was a very real possibility that we’d have to buy all new clothes and furniture).  For me, that meant grocery shopping on an extremely restricted budget, something I hadn’t done in a while.

I became acutely aware of the cost per serving of my favorite foods.  I read up on how to stretch food and make sure nothing went to waste.  I learned how to cook all kinds of meals with just a Dutch oven (a Christmas gift which had been left in my car rather than packed up by the movers), plastic utensils and aluminum foil.  No microwave, fancy knives, frying pans, baking sheets, cutting boards, flatware or plates.  I realized how difficult it would be to feed an entire family on a restricted budget.  It was really hard!

2.  Be prepared.  (If you’re not sure whether you’re prepared, prepare more)

I’m a little bit ashamed to admit that I do not have a savings account.  I mean, I guess technically I do.  It has something like $10.00 in it: whatever the minimum deposit to open the account was.  Of course I had watched the bits on Today and The Early Show about keeping at least 3 months’ salary in savings in case of emergency, but I just figured I’d start that after I paid off all my debt (God, I hope Suze Orman never reads this).  Besides, since I turned 16 I’d NEVER been without a job.  Why should I start worrying about being unemployed now?

Unfortunately there are plenty of my peers who are in exactly the same financial position.  What comes in goes out.  We need to change that.

Preparation goes beyond just being financially ready for disaster.  Being mentally prepared is equally important.  When embarking on this move, I thought that the worst case scenario would be 10 days without my clothes, furniture and kitchen equipment.  I also thought I was a shoo-in for the job I wanted.  I was banking on starting a job and having everything I needed within days of arriving in Minneapolis.  Needless to say, life doesn’t always go as planned.

My lack of mental preparation sent me down a shame spiral.  I was furious with myself for failing to get the job and failing to have even considered that I might experience a moving disaster.  I didn’t even want to get out of “bed” (air mattress).  What was I going to do?  Get up, shower, change clothes and sit somewhere else on the floor to watch TV?

I felt awful about myself.  Being mentally and financially prepared could have stopped the self-pity before it even started.

3.  True friends show up for you when times are tough.

Our friends are absolutely incredible.  When word got out about our moving disaster, we received the most incredible showing of support I could have ever imagined.  Although we insisted that we were fine and didn’t need help from anyone, we had people offering us blankets, gift cards, pots and pans, microwaves and cell phones (oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that shortly after our arrival in Minneapolis my roommate managed to dunk her phone in a glass of Dr. Pepper.  The phone was fried).  Our family was calling us and offering moral support and our friends were constantly checking in with us.

The remarkable generosity of our friends and family forced me to examine myself.  Would I have been so generous?  I hope so.  Going forward I certainly will strive to give as much as possible when someone I know is in need.

While my experience living on an air mattress was certainly a short-term challenge, I realize that there are millions of people out there much, much worse off than me.  In fact, just having a roof over my head and something to eat (Ramen Noodles or otherwise) means that I am incredibly well-to-do.

While spending the final month of my twenties on an air mattress was certainly not part of my plan, I am confident that the lessons I’ve learned will stay with me in my thirties and beyond.

This is Table 110. Welcome.

Table 110:  It doesn’t have a great view.  It’s not particularly spacious.  It’s not in a quiet corner, in fact there are constantly people walking by.  When assigned to the section which includes table 110, servers feign illness, try to trade sections, whine, cry and protest until they finally give in and and take the section. When a customer willingly stays seated at table 110, the server treats them like gold.  He or she is so happy someone is actually sitting there!

When customers are no longer being seated at table 110, a whole new set of activities begin.  Servers who are finished with their shifts count their money at table 110.  Staff members who are famished after a 14 hour shift collapse into the booth of table 110 to eat.  During the slow hours, the managers sit at table 110 to make next week’s schedule.  Annual performance appraisals happen there as well.

Relationships are born and die at table 110.  Servers, hosts and bartenders grab a seat there to have important conversations with each other away from the rest of the staff.  They get each others’ phone numbers, discuss their families, wait for each other at the end of the night, have fights and fall in love at table 110.

Many times customers seated at table 110 can be seen gazing wistfully at the rest of the restaurant, wishing they had a better table, then realizing they are content to be seated with their family, eating a warm meal.

Table 110 is where life happens.  It’s not glamorous, roomy, exciting, close to anything, or particularly fun.  But it’s real.  Welcome.

Snow.

Late last week our apartment complex hung up signs in the lobby, the elevator, the garage, the trash room, and about a hundred other locations warning us that our cars needed to be moved to a different parking lot prior to 10:00am on Monday, January 10th because they were plowing our lot.  

Having just spent 20 months in Texas, I’m now aware that not everyone understands what I’m talking about.  You see, when you live in Minnesota, huge amounts of snow accumulate in parking lots.  While the friendly snow plow driver folks will plow around your cars on a regular basis, intensive, large-scale snow removal projects are necessary from time to time.  It’s kind of like Spring cleaning for the parking lot.  Only it happens more often than just once a year.  And it happens in the Winter, not the Spring.   Anyhow…

I normally think very little about this process.  In fact it usually doesn’t even impact me since my car and I are at work when it occurs.  But having been freshly transplanted in the snowy metropolis of the Twin Cities and without a job yet, I had to pay lots of attention this time.

In the days leading up to this massive snow removal event I made several mental notes to move my car out of the lot.  I was reminded about the upcoming car moving deadline each time I rode the elevator, every time I put a garbage bag down the trash chute, and on about 27 additional occasions.   

When I woke up this morning I was ready to conquer the world.  I had an actual task on my agenda and I was going to get it done!  It was going to be an amazing show of responsibility, one which would certainly boost my dwindling self-esteem for at least a couple of hours.

I set forth with the energy and excitement of a team of sled dogs.  I woke up when my alarm went off, spent some of my Twitter time looking up a map of the apartment complex, figured out where I should park my car, and devised a route to walk back to my building so I would have to spend the shortest possible amount of time walking outside in the cold.  My plan was to go and execute the plan at exactly 9:45am.

Sometime between my extensive planning/over-analysis of the task ahead of me and the actual execution of said plan I heard a loud noise outside.  It sounded like a giant refrigerator was being dragged down an alley.  Or maybe like a robot ice skating on sheet metal.  I pulled aside a vertical blind and saw it: the parking lot was already being plowed.

What the??!!  I had time left!  In fact, I had over an hour!  This was not the way I expected it to happen at all.  I had carefully crafted a detailed plan to complete the car moving activity.

I sat watching disappointedly while the plow removed snow from our parking lot even though my car and another lonely sedan still occupied the space.  Then I thought really hard about what was going on.  I decided that the snow plow person  probably wanted to get a jump start on the day and was completing some preliminary plowing so that when everyone moved their cars he/she would have less to do.

As 9:30 rolled around I realized that the snow removal appeared to be done.  The plow had driven off and not returned for several minutes.  I had 15 minutes to think about whether or not I should still execute my flawless plan for car moving.  

On one hand, the plow driver might be coming back for a more thorough de-snowing session.  And my roommate was going to come home after work and see what an epic failure in was for not being able to accomplish the simple task of moving my car on time.  And I had spent several minutes painstakingly constructing the most perfect car moving plan ever.  On the other hand, it seemed stupid to go out into the cold if no additional plowing was going to occur.

With a flourish of responsibility and powerful ability to complete a task, I put on my hat and coat, demanded that the dogs “Stay!!”, and walk confidently down the hall to complete my one and only assignment for the day.  As I boarded the elevator I double-checked the sign.  I had read it correctly: the deadline for car moving was 10am today.

I marched out to my car, made note of several other cars still in the lot, sighed, and moved my vehicle to the spot I had so carefully planned earlier in the morning.  I followed the perfect route to the closest door of my building and thought about how utterly STUPID this whole exercise was.

Now I’m back in my apartment peering out the window from time to time.  I’ll let you know when the plow driver returns to take car of the small mound of snow where my car used to be parked.

Oh, and P.S., it just started snowing.     

Back to Minnesota

Well here we are so soon after it began.  Exactly one year ago I was helping my friend move from Minneapolis to Dallas.  It was -17 f and I swore I would never move again in a Minnesota winter. HA.  My move-back-to-Minneapolis date is December 27th.  I’m leaving with mixed feelings.  I hate that I’m leaving my Dad and stepmom.  I hate that I’m leaving this weather (it’s December and I have the air conditioning on…).  I’m moving to a place so cold that you can throw boiling water in the air and it will evaporate before it hits the ground.  I’m moving to a place so snowy that the snow recently caused the Metrodome roof to collapse.  I’m also moving to the place where all my friends live.  And my Mom and sister will be a 4 hour drive from me.

I will keep blogging, but it will all look different.  I will no longer be a Yankee in Texas, so the title of this blog will likely change.  I’ll also be branching out.  Please stay in touch everyone!  Love you all!