Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Making Your Way in the World Today Takes Everything You've Got

Yesterday I met Nurse Kathy for breakfast at Starbucks, right at the bottom of Heart Attack Hill. Even though my right leg is still not 100 percent (and never will be, says my Inner Pessimist), I was determined to walk my way through this date, including two errands afterward.

And I did! We had a lovely time (Indian Summer has passed, and it's lovely and bright and cool-ish in Arlington, just like September should be). Nurse Kathy is such a good friend, and I rarely get to see her. We talked fast and furious for 90 minutes, she gave me a bottle of wine, I cried about my dad — you know, the usual breakfast date.

Afterward, I walked up the street to the post office and then went to Penzey's Spices. Lately I've been doing this weird thing; I search for my desired item on a shelf, spot it, grab one, purchase it, and then come home to find that I bought the wrong thing. I saw Chardonnay but grabbed a bottle of Cabernet. I saw Reduced-Fat Triscuits but came home with old-school Triscuits. And at Penzey's, I saw minced garlic but went to the checkout counter with minced ginger.

The good news is that I caught it before I got home, but still. What the heck? I am too young to be this batty.

And then I walked all the way back up my hill, the "easy" way, and dear Lord, from all the puffing and panting and sweating I did, I could've powered a small steam engine. It's been A Year Without Zumba, and man am I feeling it.

I have nothing scheduled for any other mornings this week, so I'm going to try taking short walks around the 'hood and see how I do. I learned that if I lift my knee higher than usual before setting it down (while walking), it hurts much less. And yes, I look quite the dork while doing it, thank you for asking! But I will sacrifice a little vanity to get a lot less pain.

I'm trying, trying to heed Cindy Glamour's wise words and eat a lot less and significantly smaller portions. For lunch today I had half a cup of Whole Foods smoked salmon salad (OMG yum!! Writer Jenny brought it to a writers group soiree, and we gobbled it like it was ice cream), a handful of Reduced-Fat Triscuits, and a white nectarine. For me, that is a minuscule lunch, and I know I'll be hungry later. For dinner, I'm making a veggie-laden frittata, hash browns, and fresh fruit. I will carry the mental image of that frittata with me as I endure my post-lunch hunger pangs . . .

— Lady C, hungry, valiant, usually sweaty

2 comments:

  1. I'm so glad you're here. Is that silly? I had a shit-sandwich of an early morning. A story that I submitted for publication was rejected. Fine. I'm used to that. What was not fine was the horribly rude editorial letter that accompanied it. I know the story might need work. But don't tell me it's irredeemable. Pfft. I've been stewing over it all morning. And it's not even 9. And then I saw that you'd written and, truly, my heart lifted a little. Thank you for making me laugh (I do that shelf item mismatch all the time) and for reminding me that the climb matters (even if you did not know you had steeped this post in such metaphor). I'm off to do 10 sun salutations, hoping to get out of my funk. And then, oh joy, on to reading more about the flaws in the American welfare system for grad school. Yeesh! Maybe I'll start the chardonnay early today. xxoo

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    1. Ah, honeychild. First I will say a prayer for that editor's soul, as he or she is clearly a deeply unhappy and tormented human being, to have thrown such petty ugliness your way. And second, I will hit said editor with my car, because that's how I roll. There is no excuse for being an asshole!!

      And yes, the climb matters. There's always gonna be another mountain! Ain't about how fast you get there, ain't about what's waitin' on the other side — it's the CLIMB! Okay, these aren't my own words, but I'll take sage advice where I find it.

      I hope your sun salutations gave you the peace you craved, and I'm here to give you a pep talk whenever you need one, with or without chardonnay! Love you, babygirl.

      xx your fan

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