An Uncommonly Fine State of Mind

24 Jan

So far this year my fitness routine has shriveled up to a shell of its former self. I’ve fallen into walking through a single Saturday afternoon workout while the girls are in tumbling class. That’s just not gonna cut it if I want to have huge muscles and live to see the age of 115. The problem is that when I drop Ainsley at school at around 9, I’m anxious to get to Borders to read and write because, well, I’ve written about how I love Borders ad nauseam, and, besides, sweating in a gym is not usually a holiday for me. Still, before this writing habit took shape, I went straight to The Y on most mornings.

Last night in the middle of a bedtime reading (and working…I love the “That’s Silly!” section) of a Highlights High Five magazine with Ainsley, I received this stunning vision from Beyond–delivered by a scantily clad siren–of actually doing BOTH this morning: Go to The Y Mike, get your damn workout in, and then still go work for three hours. And don’t be such an freaking baby about it. This mystical encouragement, though unnecessarily snarky, did the trick.

Breakfast always sets the tone for the day. I have to keep it light and healthy or I could be throwing the morning down the toilet. I ate two bananas and what was left of the girls’ coconut-spelt-teff pancakes for breakfast–about four bites. Then after the workout I picked up two organic apples to quell any annoying hunger that arises here in Borders (The vegan selection here is limited to an overpriced nut & fruit bar). So I feel good this morning (despite dealing with two crabby-ass kids this morning, Oscar The Grouch would have been frightened). Better than a normal high mood, in fact. That’s rare, folks. I’m listening to the world’s most depressing song and I still feel terrific.

I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair

I’ve dealt with some weird, distressing moods lately. Like I wrote before, I can blame some of that on fighting away the medication (I’m still taking five tiny white balls of Cymbalta each night, next week–four!). As with everything, what goes up must come down. Most of us live somewhere in the middle between ecstatic and dreadful.

After a quick glance of this mess I have written, it’s obvious that high moods compel me to inject a crap load of parenthetical interruptions. All I can do is pray I feel like shit tomorrow.

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3 Responses to “An Uncommonly Fine State of Mind”

  1. somethingnewplease January 24, 2011 at 1:11 pm #

    Wouldn’t it be great if you could only come up with writing ideas while being healthy at the gym with the nice smoothies and the treadmills?

    If only…

    Enjoyed your dilemma,
    D

    • fightn4it January 24, 2011 at 7:11 pm #

      Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks!

  2. Writers Wanted January 31, 2011 at 3:29 am #

    I love your transitions and lucidity. I have been writing for Ghost Writers for a while now, and they pay me very well to write blog posts like this, or content articles. I clear $100-$200 on a awful evening.
    Judging by your love for words, you may enjoy doing the same.
    It wouldnt hurt to check them out.Here are the details

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