Groovin.
A friend commented today that I seemed happier and calmer. I agreed. I am doing better. Much better. Almost got my groove back. And about frakkin’ time, I can tell you. Although if I could flip back that switch in my head which I flipped during the darkest days which has allowed me to daily eat everything not actually nailed to the cupboard shelves — well, that would be great. Also, the NYTimes told me today that I should be able (as an almost 40 year old woman) to do 16 push-ups. Hang on a second while I try that out.
2 and a third.
Sad. Sad. Sad.
But I am doing better, even if the better is not very deep yet (scratch my psyche with even a small tiny pin and watch me bleed) and I am grateful for every ounce of okay I feel. And I know the okay is getting better because I’m writing again. I’m charging through this play about — oh but I can’t tell you until it’s done because (I’m not sure why) if I tell you, it kills it dead and I don’t need to write it anymore. Tell you what, when I finish it, I’ll ask for readers. I’ll even set me a deadline. Say this time next week, I’ll post and ask three of you to read it and rip it to tiny tiny shreds for me. It’s tentatively called Long/Short. But that’s very tentative.
And I might go to the gym. If I had a membership. Or any inclination to go to the gym. That might be rushing things.
i’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Well, I’m an almost-30 year old woman, and I can’t do one push-up using correct form. So you kick my ass!
Glad you are feeling good AND writing: what a great combination. That’s good news.
I’ve got school holidays coming up in two weeks. I’ll read it, if you want.
I just popped back. 11 push ups! I’m astounded. (I did the girly ones where you start from your knees. ) I think my arms are going to be aching today though. I’m 44, so I think that 11 is EXACTLY what I should be doing for my age. No more.
(please…. no more….)
Way to go, two and a third!!! I can’t help myself, there is a sad part of my brain which is convinced that push-ups are for boys. And why would I spend time doing an exercise i find so hideous to do. Seriously. They make me clench in all sorts of strange places. i’d far rather go dancing….
Funnily, my gym days petered out when I started blogging last year. Then I started back at the gym a few weeks ago and going for longer walks with my dog and now I’m having trouble reading all the blogs that I used to. It kept me awake last night -
I think it’s great that you are writing a play … hold onto your feelings of optimism!
I’ve only just found you here! Good to see you writing again!
If you are starting to feel well, I do not recommend the gym. It has a way of making you feel so poorly, you will ne’er return. Best to go to the gym when you feel awful. Then, it can’t get any worse. I am glad this particular dip in the cosine of life is almost ascending.