There is a not-so-good smell in my house and I can’t find it. I know that someone (El Guille) put something (food) someplace (WHERE?) and I can’t locate the offending substance. All I know is that when I walk into my house it’s wafting from locations unknown and I can’t handle it. Granted, I might be smelling things that aren’t there, what am I talking about? IT EXISTS. However, when I try to find it sensory overload kicks in and my formerly refined nose can’t find it (it will probably be sentient by the time I find it.)
Other Half left for the weekend with friends to Cali. I was good wife and let him drive away when everything inside my head was screaming “NOoooo, please, I am so sick, I need to lay down, not move, not take care of another human being, help, the house, disaster, can’t, can’t, can’t.” He never goes anywhere for fun and this is his break, so I hugged him goodbye. Help. My house had a supercell inside. I feel like this, only my house is worse. The sad thing is that I still think I can DO IT ALL. It’s all in my head, I'm sure.
I haven’t exercised for more than two weeks. Last Thursday I thought, “Well, enough is enough. You just have to toughen up, get it together, pull it together, girl. Suck it up!!” Bright and early, I pulled out my exercise mat to attempt my usual 45 minutes of yoga or Pilates. Mentally tough, pulled together, start the program! About 9.5 minutes into warm-up, in the middle of down-dog, everything went s p a r k l y. My breath quickened and then things started spinning. I gave up the pretense and lied down on my exercise mat. There I stayed for the next 30 minutes. Somehow I found myself converted into a car track and stuffed animal prop. So maybe this whole sick thing isn’t in my head, maybe I really AM exhausted, maybe this isn’t something I can just tell myself to snap out of (go figure!) I resolve to listen again to what my poor body is telling me (which is to use it as weight resistance when lowering to the couch.)
My body is also making me eat every two hours. If I don’t, I feel awful, which means I don’t feel like eating anything, which makes it worse. GREAT, a spiral from which I cannot extricate myself. I don’t quite understand how you can be drifting off to sleep and have to make a run for the porcelain throne, but there it is. So I watch Globe Trekker( Snowdon! Shin-kicking in the Cotswolds!), catch up on my Project Runway (Allison? Really? Vincent is such an idiot), and munch my whole wheat toast, hoping that the ginger ale will keep everything down (PULL it together! Suck it up! )
My friend asked me if I could watch her son tomorrow for a few hours while they were at a wedding, I said “SURE!” Maybe the two toddlers can occupy themselves, or maybe Nemo can help. This is for certain, I have to find that smell or I am going to be very, very embarrassed when they step through the door.
One other thing is for certain, I really want a muumuu.