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There's such a lot of world to see.
Jan. 19th, 2005 12:22 pmSophie has calmed down from her caffeine/sugar hyperness -- I suppose the 18 hours required for dogs to metabolize chocolate finally passed. On Monday night, DYA and I left the house to go see a movie and came back to find the glass 9x9 pan had been pulled off the stove and all the brownies eaten. I was so mad. I was mad that my dog misbehaved and acted out. I was mad that my dog could possibly be poisoned and die. But I was also mad because I really wanted a brownie. The latter seems shallow, but then again, I'd already done the research and math and figured out my dog was in the clear. She consumed less than half the lethal dose for a dog her size. She didn't even vomit, which I was thankful for, just acted extra hyper for a day or so. Yes, yes, I'm glad there were no late-night emergency vet visits or comatose Sophie. But still, I was craving a brownie.
Last night was my second meditation class and we learned postures and I re-learned how utterly inflexible I am. At least when I was jogging regularly, I'd stretch before and after, but lately I've only been lifting, so I'm building up lots of tight, short muscles. I want to start yoga too, but I think I will wait until after my meditaiton course. I know how I am -- I get all excited and start a dozen new things all at once, and then none of them stick. It's better to integrate one or two new things slowly over time.
So last night I stepped out ot temple and faced the swirling bitter winds of cold. There was some snow starting to fall, except it wasn't really "falling", only getting pushed and shoved around, skating across the sidewalks and streets and into my face. I struggled to the bus stop and waited. I thought, ok, this is hard, but it's not too bad. I can do this. I can take it. The bus came and I had much gratitude.
But then I had to get off the bus. And walk the remaining three blocks. Which I didn't anticipate would be such a challenge. I started tearing up while walking. Halfway, I said outloud "I can't make it!!" only to look up and seem someone else on the sidewalk walking towards me. I'm not sure he could even hear me between the screeching wind and the layers wrapped around his head. I didn't care anyway. Sure, I was acting like a big baby, but damn, it hurt.
When I got inside and peeled off all the layers, I went into the bathroom. My face looked damaged. It was swollen and lopsided and rough. Like someone had grabbed my shirt collar and slapped me around (a la Mike Hammer in Kiss Me Deadly). I had a moment of vain panic, that somehow I wouldn't recover, that I'd been permanently disfigured by the Chicago winter. But my busted grill was only temporary.
It's time to step away from the computer.
Last night was my second meditation class and we learned postures and I re-learned how utterly inflexible I am. At least when I was jogging regularly, I'd stretch before and after, but lately I've only been lifting, so I'm building up lots of tight, short muscles. I want to start yoga too, but I think I will wait until after my meditaiton course. I know how I am -- I get all excited and start a dozen new things all at once, and then none of them stick. It's better to integrate one or two new things slowly over time.
So last night I stepped out ot temple and faced the swirling bitter winds of cold. There was some snow starting to fall, except it wasn't really "falling", only getting pushed and shoved around, skating across the sidewalks and streets and into my face. I struggled to the bus stop and waited. I thought, ok, this is hard, but it's not too bad. I can do this. I can take it. The bus came and I had much gratitude.
But then I had to get off the bus. And walk the remaining three blocks. Which I didn't anticipate would be such a challenge. I started tearing up while walking. Halfway, I said outloud "I can't make it!!" only to look up and seem someone else on the sidewalk walking towards me. I'm not sure he could even hear me between the screeching wind and the layers wrapped around his head. I didn't care anyway. Sure, I was acting like a big baby, but damn, it hurt.
When I got inside and peeled off all the layers, I went into the bathroom. My face looked damaged. It was swollen and lopsided and rough. Like someone had grabbed my shirt collar and slapped me around (a la Mike Hammer in Kiss Me Deadly). I had a moment of vain panic, that somehow I wouldn't recover, that I'd been permanently disfigured by the Chicago winter. But my busted grill was only temporary.
It's time to step away from the computer.
