crankiness

DO SOMETHING ELSE

Autumn is not the best season for me. I could say that about winter, spring and fall, too. Rather than labelling myself with a disorder, I’m choosing to acknowledge that I’m sensitive to weather and seasonal changes. But aren’t we all? We all respond to changes in temperature and light in our own unique ways. Some more than others.

I’m doing much better now than when I was younger. Experience is a good teacher. Being more physically fit makes a huge difference. I’m feeling blessed though I still grumble alot. Well, I do feel so sleepy throughout the day. Sometimes it’s hard to get things done. Good ideas and creativity seem out of reach. My concentration – where the hell did it go? And forgetfulness! Sometimes I feel the need to set a reminder to take my meds. I woke up at 4:am one time and remembered I didn’t take my bedtime hypertensives. Then there’s the crankiness.

I was so cranky this morning at the YWCA. The locker room was so crowded at my usual spot. The women were visiting and talking animately. I could not access my usual locker. I was rather miffed but went to a different row. Why fight the crowd? When I was leaving I received a few ‘looks’ from women who were not used to seeing me there. We are so set and territorial about lockers and seats even when our names are not on them. It’s healthy to upset our apple carts once in awhile.

My apple cart was further upset when I got into the gym for the tabata class. It was abuzz with loud chatter and too many bodies. Equipment were in scarcity. The lights overhead extra bright. My crankiness got cranked up. I curled my lips and bared my teeth. I kept quite though and exited to the weight room instead. Why foist my moody self on unsuspecting innocents, eh?

I was at a loss of what to do at first. I migrated to a treadmill and turned it on low. I worked up to a speed of 3.5 which is nothing to brag about. It was enough to earn a mild sweat after 30 minutes. I broke out in a profuse menopausal soak on the recumbant bike. Even my ears were dripping. I’m embarrassed to say it was less than 10 minutes in broken starts and stops. I finished my hour with 20 minutes of qigong. I felt refreshed and uncranked. All the apples back in my cart.

BREATHLESS IN SASKATOON

IMG_1895This morning I am sipping dandelion tea made from roots dug this summer.  Steel cut porridge is simmering on the stove.  The aroma and steam from the cooking is soothing for my dry passages.  No, my tryst with the cold is not over.  I am fooled once again.

It is difficult to be patient.  I am angry with my body, not healing fast enough.  But I must get over my anger and allow my body the ease to heal itself.  The two of us fighting each other will only prolong the process.

IMG_1892My anxiety last evening sent me into a panic of breathlessness.  I got a dose of how my patients used to feel.  One never knows how it feels until the shoe is on the other foot or should I say, on my foot.  It is good to taste one’s own medicine.  A cup of peppermint tea and other tending from the man around the house helped a lot.  An old beauty aid comes in handy, too.  Never throw anything out.  You just never know when something will come in handy.

I should stop saying, I think I’m feeling better today. Optimism hasn’t helped.  I should just ride out the storm.  My colds are usually long affairs.  I’m among the 10% of the population with undeveloped sinuses. The only ones I have are tiny ones above my eyebrows.

I didn’t know I was an anomaly till I was in my 30s when I had an acute attack of facial pain (sinusitis).  It was after visits to several specialists that I was diagnosed. What it meant for me was I can’t breathe dirty air.  I had to give up smoking.  At my worst, everything bothered me – dust, perfume, cigarette smoke.  I could taste the ink on newspapers in the same room.  Colds took a long time to get over.

Life generally sucks when I have a  cold.  I can be handle it only for a week.  Then I go berserk which is right around now.  I feel totally devoid of sanity and good will.  Thank goodness Christmas is not till December for I am also short on joy.

However, life marches on.  I still have the same old, same old problems, perplexities or whatever it is that life is made of.  It is not made of sugar canes, that is for sure.  That reminds me, I have bills to pay.  Call me cranky, call me bitchy.  They both fit. And as Scarlet Ohara I would breathlessly say, Tomorrow is another day.

CRANKY & NOT IN FRANCE

IMG_1158I’m in trouble.  I have my Chai.  Feeling better, head clearing.  I can feel things draining downward.  But when I speak, I can hear my hoarse voice echo in my head.  My ears pop and my eyes tear.  When I cough, I can hear the rattle in my chest. Too soon for complete recovery yet.  BIG HEAVY SIGH.

I need to be patient and let the cold run its course.  But I am getting cranky and feeling distraught with discomfort at times.  These are not the restful symptoms of being totally sick, of doing/not doing of yesterday. I’m going to take these as signs of healing.  I better keep pushing the fluids and take an analgesic to relieve my distress and crankiness.  This morning, my tapping fingers are not enough.

I don’t know how other Canadians are feeling, but I am sick of the Jian Ghomeshi story. Only a day out, it seems to be in our lives over everything else.  So much speculations.  So many different opinions.  So much #*^!!!!  Reminds me a little of the O.J. Simpson story. Let me not add to the hash and rehashing of these stories.

Let me move onto my second week in France.  I was interrupted by a slow Internet there.

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October 22, 2014

It is now Wednesday in France. We are down to our last two days before heading home.

I am happy for this time away from my familiar surroundings. It helps to take me out of myself, out of my small mind and gives me a larger scope of the world. I hope I can be more open-minded. At this same time, being away from home brings me closer to understanding who I am. I see my small concerns for what they are. I see my selfishness and my mean ways. I wish to do better.

IMG_1249I am missing my fur baby, Sheba. I can imagine her excited barks upon our return. I remembered the first time we were away from her. She was so happy to see us upon our return that she ran circles in the street.  She brought tears to my eyes. I’m thinking that we could learn from our pets. They know how to greet us. We should let the people in our lives know they are appreciated.

This is what I’m thinking as I sit here tapping my words. It should be that simple. But it is not. We have to make things complicated. We put in conditions. We insist that people see things our way. We demand that they hear us before we will listen to them. I believe we call this tit for tat.

IMG_1692I am quite weary of this way of living. I am exhausted by it. I am at many crossroads at this time in life. What a better place and time to find this out than in a place of neutral ground. Perhaps I will have a clearer sense of direction as I fly home.

I am hoping when we get to the airport on Saturday morning, we will not be told there is something wrong with my ticket. It is strange all the things that had gone wrong with our bookings when they were done by professionals. Now I’m totally sold on that there are no such things as accidents. Everything is meant to happen.

IMG_1712On these last mornings here, we walk the streets of the village. They are still quite empty. We see the same cat and dog. Some cars drive by. We wave. Now we are able to discern a nod from the drivers. We see a woman here and there clearing the flower boxes in the windows. We say bonjour, the only French word we know besides Je ne parle pas Francais.

Well, I like to say I’m trying. I am. Every day. Always. Sometimes it wouldn’t hurt to give it a rest.