Take Care

I have a line of bite marks on the inside of my cheeks from clenching. I've lost my voice and I was so, so exhausted during our short morning walk. But I don't feel like taking a nap. The body is fascinating. I don't understand what is wrong with me. I don't feel sick enough to feel so exhausted but webMD is confusing me so I don't know what to tell the doctors in the 45 seconds I'll have with them on Monday to help ensure I won't have to struggle to see them again if the problem remains. I feel a bit like I'm walking against a stiff wind, my body feels heavy and light at the same time.

Lodo thinks I should chill out and no doubt he's right. Despite my psychotic rants, I'm really one of the most chilled out people any of my friends know (friends who read this blog, this is where you chime in on the comments section letting everyone know how sane I am in "real life"). I'm rational to a fault almost and rarely care to invest the emotional energy to be terribly angry or even annoyed with people, mostly because it prolongs interaction with someone that I already don't care for. It's easier to just ignore them and invest my energy into avoiding them.

But I do need to manage stress better. Ironically, I'm stressed about that as well. I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate some more physical activity into my life. Though Nike had it right when they trademarked the phrase 'Just Do It', my struggle is with starting and stopping. I can start doing anything but I quickly lose interest and motivation. And I hate failing at that over and over again. So I'm trying to trick myself, trying to structure regular physical activity that has a social/accountability component and a variety component. I need to take better care.

When I started this post, I was also still stressing about my keys. I still had not received a response to my e-mail and was starting to screw myself back up into the ceiling (which is concrete and thus is quite a feat). I was psyching myself for escalation (if I start something I want to finish it) and figured I would next call the police. I was taking a break from my plotting when someone knocked on the door. It was SkidMark with my keys. Awkwaaaard. Fortunately? I have lost my voice to this latest plague and managed to squeak out a thank you which I think caught him off guard. It was brief, I have my keys and one less thing to be psychotic about. I'm not sure what would have happened if I wasn't home, no one bothered to call and Susan never responded to my e-mail so that was kind of lame but it's neither here nor there. I've got my keys, I can dial back the crazy, make some more soup, and listen to the rain until I have to actually go out in it with my little stinker dog.