Finally, I returned to my local swimming pool. I haven't been swimming in Mountain View for an entire month. I did swim one day last week while I was out of town. I only swam half an hour on Friday. Today, I gutted out forty five minutes. And now, it's 8 p.m. and I am falling asleep.
Gosh, it felt good to resume to my normal routine. I walked to the pool. Then I walked to the grocery store. Then I hopped a bus to the drug store. Then I walked to the post office. And, finally, I took a bus home. If I had walked all of these errands, I would have walked about ten miles. As it is, I walked, maybe, five miles. I am feeling a little guilty. I was inactive long enough that it affected my fitness. Gosh, I am drained.
Still, being out and about today, doing dull, ordinary things, well, I felt like me again.
It helps that it is sunny again. My tan had faded. This evening, my skin has that sun-kissed feeling, the very sleight burn of fair skin out in the sun a smidge too long. It is, generally, a good feeling.
I was going to try and push myself to do an hour but after twenty laps, I had a bad headache.
This is such a boring post. I have heard from a few friends who became aware that I had been way sick. I love it when people who care about me inquire about my wellbeing.
I took a nap today. It's only 8 p.m. I am going to bed right now.
On the mend. It feels great.
One more thing: it is fun to be hailed by my swim buddies. Everyone had heard I had been sick. I love having people care about me. Pete doesn't swim on Tuesdays but I ran into him at Whole Foods. It is a sign that I am knitting myself into a community when I run into people I know at the grocery store. I had strong urges to give Pete and hug, even to kiss him chastely. . . but I didn't. I write a good game but I am shy. Pete said that he had heard I was sick, that he had worried about me. And then he said 'how do you feel, you look like you don't feel so great'. I
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Lake Woe-Is-Me
Goddamm.
Goddamm.
I was up most of the night. I just went downtown to return some movies to the library. The overdue fine is a dollar a day, per DVD. I renewed them once. I couldn't renew them again.
I am so crabby. Worn down. I am so mixed up about being sick. Am I sick? Or am I imagining it? I am so tired. So very, very tired.
Once I start moving, though, I do all right. It is nice to be out in the sunshine. Gosh, it feels like the whole world has changed since last I was well. It warmed up. Blossoms everywhere. Daffodils. Birds of paradise. Some big flowering trees are flowering. I don't know what they are.
Wah. I want. I want so many things that I do not have. I think I am sick because I want.
When I was a kid, I survived my whacko mother, well, survive might be putting too much positive spin on my story. I avoided more damage by needing nothing. I couldn't even let myself ask for things for Christmas. I would try to ask for humble little things. And, of course, I got positive reinforcement for asking for a book for Christmas. I never asked for a doll. Deep down, so far down that it was not conscious, not at all conscious, I wanted dolls.
My best friend, Tammy, she had dolls and was very generous about sharing them with me. She even let me bring her dolls to my house. My mom hated Tammy (she hated Tammy's mother, which amounted to the same thing). Mom liked to rant about the stupid presents Peony Montag bought stupid Tammy. Weren't they stupid to want dolls?
One year, Tammy's grandmother gave me a Barbi doll. I loved that doll. And I loved that woman for giving it to me. But I behaved like I did not want the doll. My mom went ballistic when Tammy's grandmother gave me a Barbi doll. She felt, and probably correctly, that Tammy's grandmother was judging her. Mom was embarassed. So was I. Finally, I had a doll but I never played with it. Eventually, I kept it over at Tammy's. I could not play Barbie dolls in front of my mom. My mother said Barbie dolls perpetuated bad female images and she was right. But I was still a little girl.
Some time after I got that Barbie doll, my mom announced that she was going to spend $100 on each child for Christmas. She said we could all place our orders, she would buy us exactly what we asked for. For some reason, I believed it. I poured over the Sears catalogue for many, many hours, carefully choosing how to spend my hundred dollars. I factored in sales tax, shipping costs. In my fantasy, I spent the entire amount on Barbie outfits. I had so much fun picking them out. When I was very sure which ones I wanted, I presented the lists to my mother. I was such an idiot. I must have had some weird issues. I so believed she was going to do what she said and get us exactly what we wanted. My mother hated Santa Claus. She didn't like to go along with the Santa Claus bullshit at all. Her hundred dollar game was really her way of scorning Santa Claus. Also, she was probably angry with my dad, who always bought us way too much stuff for Christmas. Way, way too much stuff. She probably came up with that hundred dollar plan as a futile effort to control my dad's spending.
So I put in the order, with mom. And I did not ask for anything else. I expected mom to keep her word. One of the incentives for her hundred dollar plan was that we were supposed to make a list of what we wanted, keeping her budget in mind and then no nagging, no pleading.
I kept my end of the bargain. I made my selections. I gave her the list of Barbie outfits I had chosen. I thought long and hard about going strictly with Barbie clothes. There was plenty of other things I could have asked for. But I believed this was my one chance to spend money, to direct the purchase. I so totally believed her.
I sincerely expected to get ten new Barbie outfits for Christmas. I couldn't believe the magic in that. Tammy and I talked
Goddamm.
I was up most of the night. I just went downtown to return some movies to the library. The overdue fine is a dollar a day, per DVD. I renewed them once. I couldn't renew them again.
I am so crabby. Worn down. I am so mixed up about being sick. Am I sick? Or am I imagining it? I am so tired. So very, very tired.
Once I start moving, though, I do all right. It is nice to be out in the sunshine. Gosh, it feels like the whole world has changed since last I was well. It warmed up. Blossoms everywhere. Daffodils. Birds of paradise. Some big flowering trees are flowering. I don't know what they are.
Wah. I want. I want so many things that I do not have. I think I am sick because I want.
When I was a kid, I survived my whacko mother, well, survive might be putting too much positive spin on my story. I avoided more damage by needing nothing. I couldn't even let myself ask for things for Christmas. I would try to ask for humble little things. And, of course, I got positive reinforcement for asking for a book for Christmas. I never asked for a doll. Deep down, so far down that it was not conscious, not at all conscious, I wanted dolls.
My best friend, Tammy, she had dolls and was very generous about sharing them with me. She even let me bring her dolls to my house. My mom hated Tammy (she hated Tammy's mother, which amounted to the same thing). Mom liked to rant about the stupid presents Peony Montag bought stupid Tammy. Weren't they stupid to want dolls?
One year, Tammy's grandmother gave me a Barbi doll. I loved that doll. And I loved that woman for giving it to me. But I behaved like I did not want the doll. My mom went ballistic when Tammy's grandmother gave me a Barbi doll. She felt, and probably correctly, that Tammy's grandmother was judging her. Mom was embarassed. So was I. Finally, I had a doll but I never played with it. Eventually, I kept it over at Tammy's. I could not play Barbie dolls in front of my mom. My mother said Barbie dolls perpetuated bad female images and she was right. But I was still a little girl.
Some time after I got that Barbie doll, my mom announced that she was going to spend $100 on each child for Christmas. She said we could all place our orders, she would buy us exactly what we asked for. For some reason, I believed it. I poured over the Sears catalogue for many, many hours, carefully choosing how to spend my hundred dollars. I factored in sales tax, shipping costs. In my fantasy, I spent the entire amount on Barbie outfits. I had so much fun picking them out. When I was very sure which ones I wanted, I presented the lists to my mother. I was such an idiot. I must have had some weird issues. I so believed she was going to do what she said and get us exactly what we wanted. My mother hated Santa Claus. She didn't like to go along with the Santa Claus bullshit at all. Her hundred dollar game was really her way of scorning Santa Claus. Also, she was probably angry with my dad, who always bought us way too much stuff for Christmas. Way, way too much stuff. She probably came up with that hundred dollar plan as a futile effort to control my dad's spending.
So I put in the order, with mom. And I did not ask for anything else. I expected mom to keep her word. One of the incentives for her hundred dollar plan was that we were supposed to make a list of what we wanted, keeping her budget in mind and then no nagging, no pleading.
I kept my end of the bargain. I made my selections. I gave her the list of Barbie outfits I had chosen. I thought long and hard about going strictly with Barbie clothes. There was plenty of other things I could have asked for. But I believed this was my one chance to spend money, to direct the purchase. I so totally believed her.
I sincerely expected to get ten new Barbie outfits for Christmas. I couldn't believe the magic in that. Tammy and I talked
Friday, February 08, 2008
I've lost my mind
I have lost whatever was left of my mind.
My apartment is pitted out. I've been sick about two weeks. I get sloppy when I am sick. When I don't have enough energy to walk across the room to get a drink, a drink I am just about desparate for, well, gosh, I don't stop to put anything away. I drop things in their tracks.
I am interested in food. I don't exactly feel hungry. I am bored. Food is something to do. But my kitchen is all clutter, dirty cups and saucers. It is too much trouble. I have never been able to cook in a messy kitchen. You clean, first, right? I am feeling a mild panic, thinking about all the work that lies between me and food. Even if I wake up tomorrow and declare myself well, gosh, it seems like it will take days for me to tidy up enough to do food prep.
Laundry is not a problem. I have tons of clothes. I can go weeks without doing laundry, esp. since for the past two weeks, I have been wearing the same things for many days in a row.
I have dirty clothes dropped all over the apartment. Cups and saucers all over. Empty water bottles that I tried to drop in the recycle bag and I missed. Tea bag wrappers, kleenex.
I am not a very messy person but right now I am surrounded by two weeks of untidiness.
Yesterday, I was very excited. I had called my doctor and been promised she would phone in a prescription. they told me to wait until 6 p.m. to check with my pharmacy. At 6 p.m. I learned that she had prescribed a cough syrup.
I know that
My apartment is pitted out. I've been sick about two weeks. I get sloppy when I am sick. When I don't have enough energy to walk across the room to get a drink, a drink I am just about desparate for, well, gosh, I don't stop to put anything away. I drop things in their tracks.
I am interested in food. I don't exactly feel hungry. I am bored. Food is something to do. But my kitchen is all clutter, dirty cups and saucers. It is too much trouble. I have never been able to cook in a messy kitchen. You clean, first, right? I am feeling a mild panic, thinking about all the work that lies between me and food. Even if I wake up tomorrow and declare myself well, gosh, it seems like it will take days for me to tidy up enough to do food prep.
Laundry is not a problem. I have tons of clothes. I can go weeks without doing laundry, esp. since for the past two weeks, I have been wearing the same things for many days in a row.
I have dirty clothes dropped all over the apartment. Cups and saucers all over. Empty water bottles that I tried to drop in the recycle bag and I missed. Tea bag wrappers, kleenex.
I am not a very messy person but right now I am surrounded by two weeks of untidiness.
Yesterday, I was very excited. I had called my doctor and been promised she would phone in a prescription. they told me to wait until 6 p.m. to check with my pharmacy. At 6 p.m. I learned that she had prescribed a cough syrup.
I know that
