Feeling lazy, and kind of resentful that I agreed to do something every day and failed at it. I’m sure it’s some big lesson about how if I really wanted to be a writer, I’d just write. Nothing could keep me away from it – not family or health or work… because I’d have drive and passion and blah de blah.
It’s grey, and rained last night like there was no tomorrow. Sideways, even. Now recovering from some food poisoning I got from leftover Indian food. So. Tired. Grateful for a body that identifies a foreign object and says GET OUT, just wish it wasn’t so violent.
Had the craziest dream about Ryan Reynolds last night. We were tight but married to other people and had to show restraint. Proud of myself in my dreams…
It’s very, very easy to beat myself up for not doing something I said I would do. I agreed to write in my blog every day for 30 days and yet yesterday went by and I didn’t realize it until 11pm when I was too tired. I don’t know what it’s like for people who have really horrible addictions, but I do know what it’s like to hold the bar too high for oneself. It’s not perfection I’m after, I believe that perfect is the enemy of the good. And I’ve become much more relaxed as an adult than I was as a child. And still, it’s disappointing.
But the wonderful news is that I woke up today, I have the chance to do something great. Doesn’t mean it will be this blog entry, or showing up to my job, or telling my husband I love him. It could be something small and I may not even know I’ve done it because my actions may affect someone else. That’s what I hope for, anyway.
Too many tequilas last night made for a day of feeling wasted tired. That, combined with the crazy amounts of working out I’ve been doing (to no avail – fat layers still sitting on my gut and thighs,) made me barely able to walk today.
Lesson : Heed thy age – at least when it comes to alcohol consumption and sleep deprivation.
Just spent the evening with colleagues. While I had fun, the problem is that they felt like they needed to take care of me. Because they don’t know me, they didn’t know what ‘ok’ looked like so when I got the hiccups in the taxi, and kept everyone in stitches while they were also tipsy, they perceived that as hammered. And even though I’m 47 and know what my limits are, and was conscious of it with every sip, they didn’t. We always think we know better – for others but not for ourselves. It’s unfortunate.
We had a decent therapy session. No drama, no crying, just a lot of ‘how can I give you more of what you need?’ And then a great dinner with a couple of glasses of wine. But he felt a million miles away. Yes, he was hungry. And maybe tired. And maybe he’s not thinking about anything other than those two feelings. Because he’s a guy. But isn’t that a copout? Isn’t that like saying I must only think about babies and rainbows? To be fair, I love babies and a good rainbow is something to behold, but still. Aren’t we better than this? Isn’t the goal to evolve, instead of grow further apart? Maybe that is what’s happening and right now I’m only feeling the processing part. I’m also pre-menstrual (thanks mother nature!) so that doesn’t help. Sleep will help. Sleep and water. Oh and hearing from my kiddo that he’s safe and sound. Those things are feel good certains.
I mentioned something earlier this week about hating it when women leave toilet seats wet. Its gross and unnecessary. But today my problem is the actual toilet. MY actual toilet.
We came back from a relaxing weekend away in the Berkshires (la-di-da, not so fancy – we stayed in a dorm at a yoga retreat for 500 people, but the hiking was wonderful,) to find our toilet busted. Not literally – just unable to fill water up in the tank. We tried jangling the chain, closing the seal shut, etc. Plumber comes, fixes it, same thing happens that night but instead of an ongoing run like a waterfall, this one comes and goes at 2am, 4am, 6am…
This morning, he came with a new seal and fingers crossed, I’ll sleep through the night. It got me thinking, though, about how important trade and technical schools are. I’m good at MacGyver’ing things, and I would have eventually fixed the issue, but still – would have been nice to even get some basic plumbing info growing up. Or electrical. Or understanding how the gas system in the house works. Or how to clean out to a/c vent. The basics – things that we use in our day to day life. My dad did teach me how to change a tire, and he never shied away from showing me how to do other things just because I was a girl. He worried early on that because I was such a tomboy, I might end up ‘having’ to do these things for myself anyway.
Not everyone needs a college education, least of all a liberal arts one. Yes, it makes me a well-rounded person, able to carry on a wonderful conversation at a cocktail party, but can I fix a toilet when its running in the middle of the night? No.
I took a yoga class at my gym a few weeks ago – at the NY Sports Club. Now, having practiced yoga for 25 years and taken some amazing classes with truly inspiring teachers, I don’t have high expectations of yoga classes at the gym in general. That being said, I used to have this amazing teacher at 24 Hour Fitness in San Francisco about ten years ago. He was an older man, wore socks during class, and tie-dye shirts. He had this incredibly calm demeanor. And somehow, he always knew when I needed to hear “You are stronger than you know.” But generally, the yoga teachers aren’t as great as you’d get at a yoga studio. And yet… I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, which may be my downfall. I took a class with this woman a few weeks ago, she was awful – monotone, but military style, letting people practice while in terrible positions and likely to injure themselves, giving zero time to breathe between postures, and super clunky transitions. The idea that a gym class will be HARD so they can SWEAT makes them 1. give up on any actual yoga teachings and 2. submit people to possibly hurting themselves by developing bad postural habits.
I swore after that class, I wouldn’t take another one at the gym and then tonight, because I’m a moron, I did. Same teacher! I kept telling myself to stop having judgement, stop comparing, stop stop stop, but hey, I actually HAVE a shit ton of experience and while I’m not a better human being, I am likely better equipped to notice these issues. I’m guessing teaching a class at the gym doesn’t pay well, so they take what they can get but ugh. Almost the worst.