Days of my Life #39

Give me a break!

I spent most of yesterday with my head in a book, coming up for air only to eat and drink, to relieve myself, to briefly walk with daughter and two of the dogs down to the nearby creek, watch said dogs splash in the water And frolic hither and yon, climb up to the park, walk home in the humidity and sun, sweating profusely and ponder why I could possibly feel like doing anything other than lie down, indefinitely.

I had begun my day bright and early, staring listlessly into my hot, steamy cup of liquified 2%caffeine, realizing I had absolutely nothing in my head, with not even the remnants of an interesting dream and what surprised me more than my lack of intelligent or creative thought was that I couldn’t give a shit. This was an aha moment while at the same time an ever so slight shock and still I rolled with it after all was said and done, all the way into a reclining position.

Obviously today is quite different, well more so than yesterday, in that while I did drink my habitual cup of “why bother” my brain was far more active; I consciously chose to not think about last night’s perplexing dreams and instead mentally mapped out my new exercise routine. A step to somewhere other than back to bed.

I’ll admit, here and now, that in the past two months I have been a slug, with the exception of taking short walks in my hood. Hmmm. Did I mention this before? Well, whatever, the truth is out now and I am no longer a victim of the “shock and ah fuck” of the (named after a pisswater Mexican beer) virus and am merely staying at home to let the idiots outside prove themselves right or deadly wrong. So far from the latest reports, the outsiders might rethink their steps and bring their selves back inside.

Whatever others choose do, my plan is to get myself in shape. You know, daily yoga, facials, hair masks, exercise bike routine, walk a couple miles, positive affirmations, protein shakes…the whole nine yards.

For what? Hell if I know, but this seventy year old broad is gonna have herself a fantastic bod…or die trying, (hopefully not the latter) so when the science nerds say it’s okay for us to safely leave our hovels, I’m gonna step outside feeln’ mighty damn fine and lookn’ and a feeln’ a hell of a lot better than I currently do. This gives me purpose which, in addition to my writing, is a good thing.

Why all of a sudden am I auditioning for the “get your shit together show”? Because I just realized I’ve been riding down pity party lane in an outta shape vehicle that I can actually steer myself to enable me to merge onto “happy healthy highway” quite easily. All I need is a map and a plan. So, you read step one of the initial plan- to get in shape. Step two is for me to “give me a break” from from worrying about outcomes which in and of itself may sound counterproductive but hear me out. I just gotta do what’s on my PLAN. Step three will include doing stuff for other people, which I did early on but I’m gonna ramp it up now because it helps to help others. Step four will be a continuation of my writing, reading and the transformation of refuse into art.

In general I feel I may have happened upon a personally fulfilling solution for the interim. Besides it’s worth a go.

Tune in.