After terracing the hill I climbed up on the ladder (still in my comfortable mother's day dress) and scooped rotting leaves in great gloopy blobs out of the gutters. This is because I wanted to plant some marigold seeds and water from the clogged gutters kept dripping on my head.
This morning I felt normal again. Like a regular human being. Just driving along the road with regular human being thoughts in my head. I am going to try not to overdo EVERYTHING during my break between spring and summer teaching. It will be a temptation.
I attribute my feeling normal to the increased level of physical exertion. Elliptical trainer on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Moving dirt. Glopping out the gutters. Soon I may even prepare my bike for its maiden voyage.
So unfortunately I think I have enough information to conclude that I cannot just sit around cough potato-ing and reading trashy novels and expect my meds to do all the work on my sluggish brain chemistry. I must move my body. Why are these simple things always the answer? And why do we never want to hear them?
Drink enough water. Eat good food. Get some exercise. Everyday. Day after day after day after day.
Superbettering for today: Palace Upgrade (in which I must imagine spiffy new digs for my inner self during a 5 min meditation)
Grateful Crap: laughing with spouse
how will I move? walking? at the very least.
(So I tried to do this challenge of finding 5 videos, stories, pictures or songs that reliably make me laugh out loud. Epic fail. I mildly smiled at some things.)
Quaker, teacher, parent,