MySelf-improvement

🎵 Song of the Day: “Landslide” – Fleetwood Mac 🎵 The sun was setting slow, pouring gold over the yard like it knew I needed something beautiful today. Birds chattered like they paid rent, and I eased into the porch chair, muscles sore, a cool bottle of water sweating in my hand. I set it down on the old table and hit play. That first acoustic strum of “Landslide” filled the air—just a few gentle notes, but they hit like a wave. This was the song I didn’t know I needed. > “Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?” Honestly? This year’s been one long gut check. Every time I stand back up, something else tries to take my legs out. An injury that slowed me down. A furnace that broke during the freeze. An AC that gave up during the heatwave. Plumbing problems, a cranky roof, gutters hanging on for dear life, floors that still aren’t finished. The house feels like it's going through its own crisis—and dragging me with it 🧱😅. On ...

🎵 Song of the Day: “(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight” – Cutting Crew 🎵 That song used to mean escape. Windows cracked, uncles laughing, gas station snacks in the backseat. The soft orange glow of the radio painted our faces as we sped toward Paradise—the actual place, not just the idea. It was freedom wrapped in a synth-pop melody. Now? That same song echoed through my hallway while I stared at a water-stained ceiling that looked like it was about to confess something… and I wasn’t ready to hear it. 🔧 The Doom Scroll, Home Edition: Roof? Leaking. Gutters? Sagging like my motivation. Windows? Drafty enough to host a haunted house. Water softener? Rebelling. Bathroom? One tantrum away from aquatic chaos. The stress hit like a bag of expired protein powder—clumpy, foul-smelling, and guaranteed to ruin your day. I sat down with full intention to journal or meal prep. Instead, I dove headfirst into contractor quotes, dwindling bank balances, and a dark spiral of...

Song of the Day: “Money” – Pink Floyd My house is falling apart. The roof is leaking, the gutter's leaning, the window cries in the wind, and the siding peels like a bad sunburn. I'm one step away from living inside a metaphor, inhabiting the very definition of dilapidated. And yet—somehow—I’m still standing. Still sweating. Still showing up. The house may be collapsing around me, but I’m not. That feels new. And it matters. --- "Money, it's a gas..." Pink Floyd had no idea how real that line would hit in 2025. Every time I feel like I’ve built a little savings cushion, life shows up like a cosmic wrecking ball, intent on proving its superior timing. “Nice nest egg you got there,” it seems to whisper. “Be a shame if someone… flooded your hallway.” I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just impressed by the sheer, cinematic precision of it all. The anxiety of it hums quietly in the background, making even simple decisions feel monumental. This morning I was bud...

Song of the Day: “Uptown Funk” – Mark Ronson ft. Bruno Mars The weekend was a blur of late nights and early mornings. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about balancing a collectibles show with weight loss and self-improvement, it’s that sleep is not optional — it’s essential. But, as it always goes, I found myself up way past my bedtime on Saturday, sorting through inventory, and then waking up way too early on Sunday to finish prep. Needless to say, the sleep didn’t happen, and neither did meal prep. So, today, I’m dragging. The energy’s low, my muscles feel like I just fought off a horde of zombies (and lost), and I barely managed to put together anything for lunch. But here’s where the funk comes in. Tobito and the Refried Avenger’s Funky Support Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly make it through the day, Tobito, in his usual dramatic fashion, burst into the kitchen while I was trying to make a protein shake. “Yo, what are you doing?” he asked, eyes wide behind...

🎵 Song of the Day: “Pleasant Valley Sunday” – The Monkees It’s a cheerful, catchy tune about quiet desperation. Which felt fitting today, as I tried to sell pop culture collectibles with two overenthusiastic tacos, a broken A/C unit, and only four hours of sleep standing between me and a full mental shutdown. Oh, and did I mention the pre-dawn motivational assault? Yeah, that happened. The Unholy Alarm Clock of Aspiration My alarm clock this morning wasn't a gentle chime; it was Tobito and the Refried Avenger. Apparently, their first official "collectibles show assistant" gig had them buzzing with enough energy to power a small city. At 5 AM, I was jolted awake by a cacophony of muffled shouts and what sounded suspiciously like maracas. "GOOD MORNING, COLLECTOR CONQUEROR!" Tobito shrieked from outside my bedroom door, followed by the clatter of something metallic. "RISE AND SHINE! THE FANS AWAIT! YOUR DISPLAY TABLE OF DESTINY IS CALLING!" ...

This morning didn’t start with coffee ☕ or peace ✌️. It started with Tobito body-slamming my bed like a caffeinated rodeo clown yelling, “Get up! The collectibles table won’t set itself, and cowboys don’t sleep in!” Then came The Refried Avenger, blasting through the door like a masked motivational coach: “You’ve got ten minutes before regret starts counting reps!” Apparently, my subconscious (or Alexa’s rebellious streak) thought “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” was the ideal wake-up anthem for the chaos. 🤠 Not exactly a spa-like morning routine... but arguing was pointless. They were already digging through my closet, debating what shirt screams “confident but approachable” without screaming “wrinkled and rushed.” 🔥 But they had a point. Today is the show. And it’s not just about selling horror merch or framed artwork — it’s about showing up. For yourself. For the grind you’ve committed to. For the version of you who didn’t give up when it would’ve been easier to. 🎯 This...

🎶 Song of the Day: “Friends in Low Places” – Garth Brooks This morning, I woke up to chaos… and paws. My little black dog had apparently been enlisted as a warhorse, charging into my room with not one—but two—tiny tacos on his back. Tobito and the Refried Avenger were locked in battle over who should hold the map, who should sound the morning bugle (a squeaky toy shaped like a chili pepper), and who had last eaten the emergency cookie they swore was for "stress." They’d clearly taken it upon themselves to help me get ready for my collectible show this weekend. And by help, I mean question all my choices—especially the one where I let talking tacos with big opinions and zero attention span be part of my life. 🌮🐾💥 They ran through the house screaming inventory ideas. Tobito wanted to sell nothing but “vintage cheese.” The Refried Avenger was determined to turn my $1 bins into an art installation titled “The Forgotten Funkos.” Signs were made, and when I say sign...

Song of the Day: “I Can See Clearly Now” – Johnny Nash (Press play. You'll feel it in your soul.) > I can see clearly now, the rain is gone… >  It played in the background this morning as I tied my shoes. And, honestly? It hit different. Not because everything’s suddenly perfect, or because I’ve “made it.” But because for the first time in a long time, things are starting to make sense. The Fog Is Lifting (Even if My Shoulder’s Still Mad About It) My right arm—especially the shoulder—is still sore, but something’s shifted. The deep, sharp pain is dulling. The strange, nerve-heavy sting that used to remind me “You’re broken” has turned into more of a “Hey… don’t push it.” Progress, right? I’m not 100%. Not even close. But I’m showing up. I’m lifting lighter, adjusting grip, taking longer rests. And most importantly, I’m listening—to my body, not my ego. It’s hard. There’s nothing more humbling than knowing you can deadlift 300, but your back’s like, “We can’t even ...

The Grind. The Growl. The Music. I was still finding me in the morning haze when a sound ripped through the quiet that could only be described as... taco thunder. “LET’S GOOOOOOO!” That was Tobito—my emotional support taco—dancing a full-blown salsa on my nightstand in his tiny luchador gear, fists pumped high, his cape flapping dramatically from the breeze of my oscillating fan. “You didn’t give up yesterday! You didn’t let the snooze win! You DRANK WATER before COFFEE! You’re a CHAMPION!!” It was loud. It was intense. It was—honestly—exactly what I needed. Bleary-eyed, I shuffled to the kitchen, seeking hydration and maybe just five seconds of silence. That’s when I spotted the Refried Avenger, hovering two inches off the table, arms crossed in mid-meditation, a picture of serene, starchy wisdom. “One drop becomes a stream,” he said without opening his eyes. “A stream becomes a river. A river carves stone. Now drink your water and get your day moving.” I wasn’t sure if he...

Song of the Day: “No More Tears” – Ozzy Osbourne 🎶 Today felt like a barbell to the chest, but with a crack in the foundation. The news hit me hard: Ozzy Osbourne passed away. And yeah, I cried. Not just because the world lost a musical legend, the undisputed Prince of Darkness, but because for me, he was so much more. His music wasn't just background noise; it was the raw, defiant soundtrack to countless heavy moments in my life. From navigating confusing teenage angst to pushing through intense gym sessions, even to battling late-night self-doubt – Ozzy's screams and thunderous riffs were a signal flare in the dark, a reminder that chaos could still carry a beat, that even in the mess, there was power. He was an artist who faced his demons publicly, showing that even the madman could endure and keep making noise. So, to honor the Prince of Darkness, I did the only thing that made sense on a day like this, on a day where grief and routine collide in the strangest ...

Song of the Day: “Walking on Sunshine” – Katrina and the Waves Some days, the universe just gets it. Today was one of those days—every macro lined up, every rep counted, and even the meat-cutting felt like a strange, rhythmic dance. No snoozed alarms. No forgotten meals. Just me, a packed lunch, a gym session that actually clicked, and 20,000 steps of laser focus. I hit the weights early—chest and triceps—because if I don’t train before work, it doesn’t happen. The cold steel of the incline bench felt oddly comforting, a familiar challenge. Somewhere between that first heavy press and the cable pushdowns, I caught myself humming today’s anthem: “I’m walking on sunshine… whoa-oh…” And honestly? I kinda felt it. No dramatic transformation. No sudden six-pack. Just that rush of energy that comes when your body finally starts cooperating—like gears locking into place. Macros? Counted. On point. Boring? Sure. But effective. The kind of food that doesn’t give you cravings—it give...

Song of the Day: “Everybody Hurts” – R.E.M. Some days just hit differently. Not in the “I crushed that workout” way or the “wow, I’m glowing” way. Today hit like a sad indie film that starts with a gray sky and ends with someone staring blankly out a rain-soaked window. That was me this morning. I didn’t bounce out of bed. I didn’t lace up my shoes with determination. I didn’t even bother asking the scale how it was feeling, because I already knew how I was feeling — heavy. Not just physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually. Like I’d been carrying invisible sandbags all week. The R.E.M. classic "Everybody Hurts" was already playing in my head before I hit play on the actual song. And as Michael Stipe gently reminded me that I wasn’t alone, I sat there on the couch… doing absolutely nothing but existing. Then Tobito showed up. My emotional support taco shuffled across the table, arms full of what I assume were metaphorical pom-poms. He was trying, okay? He did...

🎵 Song of the Day: “Take It to the Limit” – Eagles I didn’t need an alarm clock today. I had paws. 🐾 And a tail. 🐕 And a whole lot of zoomies. 💨 Apparently, my furry alarm clock was determined to push my limits right from the start. Before the sun even had a chance to stretch, my dog decided it was the perfect time to pounce on my chest like a four-legged wrecking ball. His tail was wagging like he just won the lottery. 🎰 Right behind him? Tobito. Grinning, energized, and wearing sunglasses he absolutely doesn’t need indoors. 😎 “¡Vamos! Today’s the day!” he shouted, jumping onto the bed, arms in the air like he was about to crowd surf. 🛏️🕺 Now normally, I’d groan, roll over, and curse the gods of cardio… but not today. Maybe it was the way the morning light came through the window 🌞. Maybe it was the fact that I actually slept. 😴 Or maybe, just maybe, I was in a Take It to the Limit kind of mood—ready to see what I was truly capable of… even covered in dog hair. ...

  Song of the Day: “Lose Yourself” – Eminem Exhaustion, frustration, and a quiet, simmering anger brewed into a perfect storm yesterday. Work was brutal. The toilet? Still broken. Sleep? My four-legged sleep saboteur made sure I got absolutely none. And the workout? I showed up, not because I felt strong, but because I desperately needed to. It’s Finding Me Friday, but today isn’t about an overnight breakthrough or some feel-good finish. This is the uncomfortable pause—the part of the story where the hero doesn’t even know if he’s a hero. That’s exactly where I’m at. 🟡 Enter: Tobito Tobito, my chip-crunching, snack-flinging sidekick, sat on the couch flipping a tortilla chip like a coin. He caught it with flair, twirled it between his stubby fingers, and gave me that look. > “So… he wants to help me, huh?” He squinted. “Then why’d he just leave a note like a soap opera character heading to rehab?” The note—wedged under a half-eaten jar of salsa—was simple: "I need ...

🎵 Song of the Day: Bon Jovi – Livin’ on a Prayer The door burst open. Tobito, vibrating with triumph like he just headlined a stadium tour, looked like someone replaced his black coffee with rocket fuel and told him leg day got canceled. “I DID IT! I FINISHED THE TOILET! THE BATHROOM IS CLEAN! I WORKED OUT! I EVEN BOUGHT GROCERIES AND PLAYED WITH THE DOG! WHO’S WINNING?! THIS GUY!!” 💥🐾🧻💪 The Refried Avenger, already deep into his post-cardio stretches, didn’t flinch. He just gave a small nod. “You didn’t give up,” he simply said. That was it. No confetti cannon. No epic training montage. No 80s-style guitar solo (though Bon Jovi was blasting in my head). Just a quiet truth: 📣 “Whoa, we’re halfway there…” 🧠 “…Whoa-oh! Livin’ on a prayer!” Because real progress isn’t about waiting for lightning-bolt motivation. It’s about choosing to move. Again. And again. And again. 🎯 Motivation is Flaky. Momentum is Loyal. There was nothing magical about today. No i...

Categories: Self-Improvement, Daily Life, Taco Therapy, Humor, Resilience 🎵 Song of the Day: “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” by B.J. Thomas ☔ The Great Toilet Incident (aka Today) Some days start full of promise—fresh clothes, clean energy, maybe even a song stuck in your head that makes you feel like you're in an upbeat 70s movie. It’s the kind of morning where you feel ready to conquer your goals, maybe even make a new personal best. And then… your toilet betrays you. Not in a subtle, “fix me later” kind of way. But in the “surprise water where there should never be water” way. The kind that makes you question all your life choices. One moment I was brushing my teeth, the next I was ankle-deep in defeat. The dreams of a productive day washed away faster than you can say "plunger." It didn’t matter how early I got up, how motivated I was, or how much effort I’d already put into the day—because nothing deflates your progress like a plumbing emergency that...

🎵 Song of the Day: “Hold Me Now” by Thompson Twins --- 🔧 When Things Take Longer Than They Should The plan was simple: finish the flooring, fix the toilet, work out, go to bed feeling accomplished. Reality? The flooring is still dragging on. The toilet? It continues its reign of chaos. By the time I finally sat down, I wasn’t sure who had defeated me more—vinyl planks or a stubborn flush. But I still worked. I still worked out. And even if today didn’t go as planned... I showed up. --- 🌅 Morning Motivation (or Chaos?) I got up early—real early. The kind of early where one wrong creak wakes the dog… and worse: the tacos. Specifically one taco. With a sweatband. And a whole lot of feelings. --- 🌮 Tobito’s Grand Entrance My escape plan was flawless—until I opened the door. A sliver of light broke through and—BAM! Tobito launched from somewhere near the protein powder shelf like a motivational missile. > TOBITO: “OH SNAP, YOU’RE UP?! LET’S GO LEGEND! FLOORING? TOILET? GY...

🎯 The Struggle Is Real (And So Are the Twizzlers) Today, my weight loss journey was powered by soft, chewy, judgment-free Twizzlers. I didn’t weigh in. I didn’t have my gym shorts. In short, today didn’t go “as planned.” But here’s what I did accomplish: Pushed through another session of flooring work. (Delays = full-body workout.) Worked out anyway—no shorts? No excuses. Made it work. Got up early for work and managed not to wake the dog or the tacos. That last one? Growth. Because if you’ve ever woken up Tobito accidentally… you know. --- 🌮 Tobito’s Morning Pep Talk (Uninvited) Scene: I tiptoe out, trying to be quiet enough to hear a pin drop… Then—BAM! A blur of beans and blind optimism shoots across the floor. My personal, unsolicited cheer squad had arrived. > TOBITO: “OH YOU’RE UP?! LET’S GO, KING! YOU’RE GONNA CRUSH TODAY! NO SHORTS? WHO CARES—YOU HAVE HEART! YOU ATE TWIZZLERS? FUEL! THAT’S FUEL, BABY! NEVER SKIP LEG DAY, OR TACO DAY! LET’S GOOOOOO!!!” It was 4:...

> “Know thyself... and also maybe stop skipping leg day.” — The Refried Avenger (probably paraphrasing Socrates) I wasn’t going to talk about this. Not because it’s some big secret, but because I thought maybe no one would notice. That the two blogs—The Nightly Storyteller and this self-improvement one—could stay in their own lanes. But the truth is, they’re connected. Deeply. And I think it’s time I admitted something out loud: The changes happening in this blog—the weight loss, the emotional growth, the frustrations, the small wins—they’re not just showing up here. They’re bleeding into the horror blog, too. --- 💀 The Storyteller and Me When I started writing about the Nightly Storyteller, I thought I was creating a character. A vessel for creepy tales, lore-building, and midnight VHS rewatches. But lately? He feels a little too close to home. He’s tired in the same ways I am. He’s pushing through changes he doesn’t fully understand—just like me. He’s transforming. An...

> “Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out.” — Robert Collier Let’s get this out of the way: I didn’t win the lottery. I didn’t break a personal record in the gym. I didn’t get offered a modeling contract while changing my oil (rude, honestly). But I did lose weight. I did hit the gym. And I did take the dog out like I promised him I would—even if he acted like I’d been gone for a year when I came back from a 20-minute errand. 📉 The Scale Moved Was it dramatic? Nah. But I’ve learned that dramatic weight drops usually mean something went wrong (like food poisoning or heartbreak, and neither are part of the current plan). I’ll take the slow, steady creep toward the goal. That’s the good stuff. That’s the kind of loss that sticks. 🛠️ Oil Change Vibes While waiting for my car, I realized: we’re more willing to maintain our vehicles than we are our bodies. Your check engine light comes on? You panic. Your own body gives warning signs? You ignore it ...