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 had a hard time getting moving today. I needed to do laundry. I thought about it several times throughout the day. All I had to do was get up and do it, but my butt stayed in the chair. It’s not hard. It takes very little effort on my part. I just didn’t make the effort. (I did eventually get the laundry started.)
I’ve had a headache for the last, oh…3 hours. Have I taken anything? No. Because that would be the smart thing to do. And it would mean I’d have to move. Get up, get water, get pills. Put the laptop down…eh, my headache’s not so bad.
Riley is going to get stung one of these days. Every time a bee or a wasp gets near him, he leaps for it and snaps at it. I keep telling him he’s got it all backwards (“Buddy, it’s not a good idea to antagonize flying insects with stingers. Trust me.”), but he’s not listening to me.
Maybe Riley can fight our battles for us. He can wrestle with the developers who leave me hanging. He can argue with the administrators who are running John’s paperwork in circles, and he can twist the arms of John’s committee members so they’ll show up for meetings. Maybe all that fighting for us will take his (tiny crazy little) mind off trying to catch bumblebees in his mouth, and he can be spared the sting he’s heading toward.
Hey, I think my headache is going away.
Yesterday was a weird day. It started fine. I got a ton of stuff done at work in the morning and I left to take my statistics midterm with plenty of time to finish it. Except it wasn’t enough time. I got about halfway done in TWO HOURS and then the testing center closed (it’s Spring Break) and I had to leave it unfinished. (I emailed my professor. We’ll see.) Then I had a ridiculously strange conversation with the checkout lady at Wegmans when I ran in to pick up dinner (I was talking about knee highs. She was talking about tampons. She must have thought I was insane.), and when I got home I wasn’t in the mood to do ANYthing. It was such a huge contrast to the day before. When I got home from the gym Wednesday night, I felt like I could climb mountains. You know why? I’ll tell you why. But wait – I need some space. This is big and needs its own paragraph.
For the first time in my life – this is no exaggeration – I touched my toes. Even when I was little, even when I was in high school and so skinny I could hurt people with my hip bones (those days are long gone), I couldn’t do that. I faked it in the Navy – we were sitting down and I could lunge for my toes twice a year. But this, this was real. (I’m a purist.) This was standing up, folding forward, and reaching. And I. Touched. My. Toes.
Go me. Go yoga.