Cracking this shell of exhaustion I'm trapped in has proven to be a bit more difficult than expected.
I'm tired all day long and then I go to bed and toss and turn for hours. I sleep a couple hours and then it's time to get up. Why, body? Why do torture me so?
I was thinking yoga was going to help me break out of the Circle of Lethargy (I believe I've mentioned the Circle of Lethargy here before - it involves eating poorly, not exercising and becoming increasingly lethargic. Hard to break out of). So I went to yoga on Monday. Two embarrassing things almost happened, and one embarrassing thing definitely happened. The first two are that I almost vomited and passed out. The last is that I cried. I am pretty sure it just looked like I was grimacing in pain and sweating, so whatevs. I always feel like crying in yoga, and it just happens that this time I did. What's it to ya?
Maybe if it would just stop raining.
I can't stop thinking about all of the things I should be doing. And the thought of it exhausts me. And then I blog, and it is so whiny, blergh. When I think of the things I should be doing, I imagine myself doing them. I'm like a robot in my imagination, full of energy, whisking through the house and running around town on errands, getting things done. In my imagination, I've painted the living room 25 times. The idea of my robot self exhausts me.
Today I made a list of the things I should be doing, and decided I will very slowly do them. Verrrry slowly. I put on makeup: that is a good start.
I need to quit caffeine. I think I am taking a break from alcohol. I know. What is going on here?
The Wednesday night yoga class is a Level 2-3, not Level 1. I've been sporadically doing yoga for five months. Does that make me a Level 2? The class is "not recommended for beginners." This inexplicably pisses me off. If I saw no benefit to yoga, I would cancel my membership, simply because of those four words. Yoga snobs irritate me beyond words.
I might be a little sensitive right now.
I have a list, a very long list, written on graph paper (why? I don't know. I haven't needed graph paper in years). I am looking at the list, and deciding which things are the easiest to do. The list exhausts me. I hate lists. They are so efficient.
Would you like to guest blog? You may not blog about baseball or sex or swear too much because half my readers are Catholic and the other half are my parents. Are you my mother? Would you like to guest blog? I may take a note from a dear pregnant friend, and blog from the perspective of one of the cats. Or both. Something more cheerful must appear here soon.