After two months of putting up with a RSI’d elbow scotching any chance of rowing or yoga I was starting to feel pudgy.
This feeling was met with NO SMPATHY from my workmates coz my pudginess simply wasn’t recognized.
Ok. So suck it up, Stella. (See even that bit of alliteration makes me feel better.)
Things had started to improve:
- More work. Yay. I don’t feel so impoverished.
- Best buddies are back in town. Yay, friends to dance with. Who love me, pudgy or not.
- Manage to row once a week. Forking out to go to the osteo helps.
BUT- a migraine (apparently it’s a hormonal thing) had me feeling blue.
When said migraine re-appeared two weeks later, I cried “Cruel and unjust treatment.”
But figured it’d be gone in two days.
Coz it always is.
Instead: it was gone in one day. Yeehaa.
Some would say.
Instead I came down with a snotty, wheezy, cold-type situation in lieu of said migraine.
“Oh crappity crap crap!” and “Give me freakin” a break!”
On the plus side the migraine’s gone I had to cancel rowing tomorrow coz you need working lungs for that.
Instead I am ensconced on the couch watching TV. (Not pay TV, but TV nevertheless.)
OK, a little confession: I had been reading A Wise Heart by Jack Kornfield all about Buddhism and the beginning it talks about being compassionate to yourself and others. . and well. . . it may have reminded me of the last time I read it, when my husband was ill, and I was feeling all sad and lonely anyway. . . and it’s possible there may have been tears. . .
But don’t let that put you of, it’s really ONE of the BEST books I’ve ever read.
Anyway, I turned to the TV. Coz that’s what modern day America/Australia/Britain etc does.
Besides my eyes were puffy and hurt so reading was out.
So I’m “torn” (using that word with all the sarcasm you can muster) between watching Mean Girls and Salt.
Neither of which I can relate to.
I am not an American/possibly Russian spy. Nor am I as skinny as Angelina- we just had that pudgy discussion, remember? And no one's ever going to say:"Do you have any idea who this woman is? What she's done for this country?"
And I am not - no matter how much I lie about my age - a high school student befriended by the “cool” girls.
Although I do work in a school.
But still, little redemption here:
Clearly tonight cries out for more Drambuie.
And, yeah, I am feeling better now.