We have a habit of picking up dinner from Ledo’s Pizza most Wednesday nights. It’s right around the corner from the gym (same shopping center), and I always go to my zumba class from 6 to 7, so John calls ahead and I pick up dinner on my way home. Simple for everyone. Sure, pizza isn’t the greatest thing to eat when I’m trying to be all healthy and stuff, but I get a little one, I swear.
Lately, though, I’ve been dreading going in there. There’s this girl, in her early 20s I think, who’s ALWAYS working Wednesday nights, and she is ANNOYING. She wants to chat, and I’m sweaty and tired and hungry and I just want to pay for my food and take it home. Stop talking to me! But of course I’m pleasant and I chat back and I think “Oh god, just take my credit card already. Why are you taking so long? Please let me go home.” And then I practically run out the door. Nicely.
I worked from home today because the guys came to replace the HVAC system (and because it was my turn – John stayed home when the painters came). Now we have a brand new furnace and A/C! Very exciting. And they’re pretty, as these things go. Shiny, anyway. Unfortunately, I now have a giant, horrible, throbbing, not-at-ALL fun headache. To go with my stuffy nose and watery eyes. They ran the heater for a while to make sure everything was working correctly, so it got really hot and stuffy in here, and I’m tempted to open the windows because it’s so pleasant outside, but I think that would be a mistake. A HORRIBLE MISTAKE. And I’m not that dumb. Today. Ask me again tomorrow.
I flaked on Jess and her mom about the 5K tomorrow because I feel crappy. It’s not so much about the 5K as it is about not being very good company and being away from home when I feel crappy. Nobody likes to be away from home when the highlight of your day is the 15 minutes spent feeling slightly less crappy because you were standing under wonderfully hot water in the shower.
I think staring at tiny letters on a screen is not helping my headache, so I’m going to stop. Also, I need to congratulate myself on finding the end of the work day. Is it stupid to drink wine when I feel crappy? Because I think I would like some wine.
I can’t figure this weekend out. I’m in kind of a funk. A petty annoying funk. I did stuff yesterday (the gym, wrestled with TurboTax on linux, a couple of errands), but not enough. I HAVE to get to the store today (we’re nearly out of calf liver for Roxy, and we need some other essentials), and I need to go to the gym…I think I’m going to put off my pedicure until later in the week or next weekend…
I did just finish our taxes, so that’s something. I broke down and used my work laptop.
I’m on the verge of pouting because I have to go to the store. Or because I have to go to the gym and the store, and that’s a lot of time out of the house. Pouting! Jesus. I think it’s Sunday Afternoon Syndrome. I can feel the weekend slipping away.
Haven’t left the house yet (it’s about two hours later), but I’m about to. John and I did finally call the bank to discuss refinancing, and now that we have all the numbers, it’s possible that we just won’t. It depends on when we’re really trying to get out of this house. I feel better having gotten that information (I’ve backed off from the pouting ledge). And we’re about to go to the store. Looks like the gym isn’t happening today. I can take a day off, right?
Tonight we will discuss Before I Go to Sleep, which I enjoyed. I’m sure we’ll only spend about ten minutes talking about the book and the rest of the time chatting about schools and kids and teaching at schools and teaching kids. (Every single person there (except for me) is either a teacher, a mom, or both.) Not that I mind. They’re not boring. Here’s the only scary thing about tonight: they put me on the rotation. That means that in a few short months, I will have to host the book club. I’ll need to pick a book (I’ll accept suggestions!), but that’s not so scary. This is: all of these women (who live in very large, very nice houses) will be in MY little house. And they will be judging me. I know they won’t be mean (certainly not to my face, and possibly not at all – they seem very nice), but still. Having a large group of strangers (practically) in my house is not anything like having a large group of friends over. So I’m a little nervous. Several months in advance.
The gym at night is a peaceful place. I know I won’t work out tomorrow (going to visit Jess and Chuck – yay!), and Sunday will depend a lot on when we get home, so I figured I’d squeeze in an extra workout tonight. Especially after IHOP for dinner. The gym is open until 10pm on weeknights, and most nights there are still people there pretty late. Not tonight, though. I walked in at 8 and I had the place to myself. It was kinda nice. None of the TVs were on and neither was the music, so the only sounds were my own. I could pretend it was my own private gym. No annoying people allowed.
As if on cue, Riley came over and shoved his dripping head into my lap just then. (He’s a messy drinker.) I’ve got to pay him some special attention to make up for boarding him overnight tomorrow.
People are dumb. Also mean. Not everyone (obviously, you are an exception), but most of us. Can I be a hermit? Would anyone mind (or really notice) if I just stopped dealing with people? I don’t mean that I would stop talking to everyone (I would certainly keep talking to you), but it would be nice to have an access list. I will only talk to people on my access list. And I reserve the right to add to and subtract from my access list at any time.
I just killed a mosquito that was flying near my head. In my house. Which means it probably already got me because that’s how it always works with mosquitoes. Can I get hermit insurance that covers escape from mosquitoes, too? That would be helpful. And spiders and scary bugs (like centipedes and millipedes). And snakes.
If I decide to become a hermit, I’ll keep going to yoga. Even if my yoga instructor does try to kill me with sun salutations for 35 minutes straight because that’s just what you do at the summer solstice. Who knew?
I was going to post something yesterday, but then I didn’t. True story. And one of my better ones, I know.
You know how sometimes people suggest doing something together (“We can carpool!” or “You can sit in here with me!”) because it sounds like a good idea? To them, anyway. And you don’t want to do it, mostly because you just want to be alone, but if you say that, it’ll hurt their feelings. Or look like an attitude problem. Yeah, I hate that. Except when I don’t hate it. There are times when I’m all for it. Usually at the beginning, but then I’ve set a precedent (“Carpooling is a great idea!” ‘Wow, it makes so much sense for me to sit in here with you instead of over there by myself!”) and backing out is difficult. It’s like breaking up (“No, it’s not that I don’t like you. I do. I just need some space.” “It’s not you, it’s me.”), except not so permanent. I need an excuse that sounds reasonable and won’t hurt anybody’s feelings.
I’m just not in the mood for people. People in general. You guys are good, the people at my gym are good, but everyone else? I want to hide from everyone else. For now, though, I’ll settle for sleep.
I don’t have a fear of crowds. I don’t have a fear of speaking or performing in front of people. Right now, though, I can’t seem to make myself go back to my gym classes. I haven’t been in about four weeks (I’ve been to the gym plenty, thank you very much, but only to work out on my own), and even though I really like those classes and I really like the people who take them and teach them, I don’t want to see them. I’m hiding. My plan for this afternoon was to stop working around four, go get my nails done, and get back to the gym in time for Muscle Blast and then yoga. Four came along, and I found myself procrastinating. Why would I do that? Why would I waste time when I could be at the nail salon? The later it got, the less likely it became that I’d have time to get my nails done in time to make it to class. And then I started trying to decide which I would rather do if I only have time for one. And then I realized that it’s the Wednesday before Christmas and I haven’t wrapped any presents yet. If I don’t do some (or all) of it tonight, I’ll only have tomorrow evening to get it done, and really, where are my priorities? The gym will still be there tomorrow morning (for weights) and tomorrow lunchtime (for cardio) (same for Friday), and if I have time, I can still get my nails done. And if I don’t have time, who cares? They can wait. Or I can – brace yourselves – do them myself.
So the anxiety I was feeling about going to the gym morphed into anxiety about my to do list, and I’ve sent it all away by deciding to wrap presents and watch TV and drink wine until John gets home (from another office Christmas party). I win!
Today was a good day to stay home. And luckily, that’s what I got to do. It rained nonstop (it’s still raining), serious, steady rain, and I didn’t have to go out in it. Except to go to the gym this morning with John. In the early morning (but not too early) when there are practically no people there (and the ones who are there don’t want to talk), the gym is a nice place to be. I mean, it’s always a nice place to be, but I’m not capable of dealing with people today. Not all people, of course. Just the not-close-friend-and-family kind. The acquaintance kind. The kind of person you run into when you go to the store or take the dogs for a walk or go to a class at the gym. The kind you have to smile for, even when you don’t feel like it. Ooh, that didn’t come out right. Smiling is fine. I don’t want to put the effort into chitchat. It’s been gloomy and I have a headache and I want to take a bath and read my book and write run-on sentences. And fragments.
Did I mention the headache? Breakfast for dinner tonight, then a bath (glass of wine and book included, of course), then hiding from the band rehearsing in the basement. Although they’ll be a jazz combo tonight, so it might be mellower.