December 12, 2018 8:23 am
We’re steadily heading towards the shortest day of the year. It’s no surprise that it’s dark out and the house lights are on. I know I’m harping on the darkness. It’s my brain. It’s better I ventilate and let out the darkness. Hoarding it inside would only make it grow.
I can’t say that the day was a success or that it went badly. It was heavy and sluggish. I just put one foot in front of the other and proceeded forward ho. It helps to have a routine. I move according to program. I vacuumed as much as I had time before leaving for my exercise class this morning. I’m finding it very therapeutic, doing something that is needed instead of squandering the time away. It’s surprising how much one can do in minutes. It gives me structure and time later to work on something or languish as desired.
I struggled through the step aerobics even with an instructor shouting out instructions. My brain is malfunctioning and I am not feeling exactly gleeful and lightfooted. I did the best I could. Sometimes I adjusted my speed, repeat times 2 instead of 3. What the hell. I was moving and that’s what counts. I don’t have to enjoy it. My brain is not cooperating. It is not my fault. I still sweated. Does that count? I still walked Sheba in the afternoon. I kept thinking of taking a shorter walk the whole time. But I didn’t.
Today hasn’t been a ton of fun but I’m not crying either. It is what it is. This, too, shall pass. I’m still upright, looking normal and doing what I normally do. I’m reading a thriller, The Girl From Home. It’s exactly what my brain needs, something easy to grab onto. I tinkered a bit with my free motion embroidery after lunch. After working on machine embroidery for awhile, it is harder to go back to. I have to reset how I see and make a picture. I have to wing it on my own. No computerized motiff, no perfect programmed stitches. I am the computer, one without a program and a defective hard drive.