Goings on

Today I made an appointment with a chiropractor, Dr. Jordan. A friend, who has had back problems in the past, recommended her. Something is going on with my lower back that causes muscle spasms in my legs. Those spasms result in impaired walking function, as well as impaired dancing. I want to be normal again. I want my body to work the way it did before my hysterectomy. I think that surgery had something to do with my troubles. My path to wellness begins with Dr. Jordan on Thursday.

I got up this morning and did something resembling yoga. I’ve found that it’s difficult to do any type of exercise if I’m in the same room with Sadie. It’s easier if Ernie is home, but if Ernie’s home, the tv is on. We have a baby gate in the hallway that keeps the dogs out of the part of the house where the kitty litter boxes are. The dogs will eat cat poop. That ain’t cool.

So, this morning I decided I could do yoga in the hallway, behind the baby gate. It kind of worked. Sadie wasn’t able to grab my hands and chew on them while I was trying to do Janu Sirsasana, that was a plus. Unfortunately, the hallway is fairly narrow so I didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver. Plus, the cats tend to walk under me while I’m doing downward facing dog, and the smell of the litter boxes was wafting into my nose–breathing deeply was not so pleasant. Not a perfect solution, but not a terrible one either. I feel guilty leaving Sadie all alone (except for Cammie the chihuahua) in the living room. She chose to sit by the gate and watch me, sometimes barking at the cats. I still felt guilty because I was behind the gate. My body felt good today thanks to the yoga.

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It’s hard to get in the work groove after a three-day-weekend. I accomplished some things today, but my workload is piling up. I need to sit down and make a to-do list. I also want to see if I can upgrade my iPhone for cheap. I have a 4 now, maybe I’ll just go to the 4S. I think it has a few bells and whistles that the four doesn’t.

I saw this leaf on the ground by my car this morning. PIctures had to be taken. I wish I could find the right words to describe this leaf upon which raindrops were resting. Were they resting or were they clinging? Or did the leaf simply catch them? Mental note: read more poetry.

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Daily Prompt: Elevator

Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene. From this Daily Prompt post http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/24/daily-prompt-elevator/

The elevator door opened, and Sheila stepped in. She pressed the button for the tenth floor and as the doors began to close she heard a woman’s voice shouted, “hold the elevator!”  Sheila quickly pressed the ‘door open’ button, the doors opened, and a tall, lithe, blonde woman strode in.

The woman looked to be in her thirties. She wore faded blue jeans, a white t-shirt that exposed a little bit of her midriff, and clunky red shoes that were probably Doc Martens. Sheila just stared at her. She was so beautiful and now Sheila felt frumpy and plain.

The woman pressed the button for the sixteenth  floor and moved to the back of the elevator. Without warning, Sheila found herself blurting out the words “you’re very pretty!”  The woman smiled and said, “thank you.”

“Are you a model?” Sheila asked.

“Yes I am.”

“What’s it like  to be pretty? I imagine it has its good and bad points.” Sheila said.

The woman tilted her head slightly as she gave the question some thought. “Well, I suppose that’s true. You work with what life  gives you I guess.”

“I’ve heard that pretty women have trouble getting dates because men are intimidated by them. Is that true?” Sheila ventured.

The woman sighed and said, “Are you writing a paper or something? How is it that you feel comfortable asking personal questions of complete strangers?”

Sheila’s heart sank, and she felt herself move closer to the elevator doors. “You’re right, that was inappropriate. I’m a nosy person. Everyone has always said that I’m nosy. I blurt  things out. I talk  too much. I’m a total dweeb.”

The woman, feeling bad about snapping at Sheila, put a hand on her shoulder and said, “No, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I have to say that strangers don’t talk to me much. My friends say that people think I must be stuck up or something. It ‘s not always easy being pretty.”

The elevator doors opened, they had arrived at the 10th floor. Sheila stepped off, turned around, and said “It was nice talking to  you.”

“You too,” the woman replied.

The elevator doors closed, and Sheila went on with her day.

Elevator

Photo by: Reed Beels, Creative Commons license Attribution, Noncommercial, Share Alike

Beginnings of stories I won’t ever write

When Sheila  emerged from the dressing room things seemed different.

The tiger scampered past the bride’s maids, swiped one of the rotisserie chickens, and jumped into the swimming pool.

Sheila’s skirt was way too short!

The dark clouds gathered at the peak of the mountain and whispered to each other; their numbly voices causing the trees in the valley below to shudder.

She stood on the cafeteria table and shouted to whoever would listen, “I’m going to use a semicolon!”

He wanted fireworks, and waterfalls, and frogs, and Klondike bars; things you couldn’t get in a mental institution.

She stared at the blank screen and thought about hamburgers.

Sheila didn’t think she was in Kmart anymore.

The old man stood up and said, “Remember in the old days how everything was so brown?” And then he laughed, and laughed.

Kearny Street - Part Of: San Francisco album: photographs of the most beautiful views and public buildings of San Francisco

Kearny Street – Part Of: San Francisco album: photographs of the most beautiful views and public buildings of San Francisco

 

I am still what I am

  • I felt all tangled up today.
  • It took forever for me to finally start the thing I wanted to start.
  • I had trouble thinking.
  • I’m still having trouble. 

I had some deep thoughts on the way home from work today. Deep thoughts can lead to depressing thoughts and should probably be avoided. I think I might be depressed, slightly. My list of things to accomplish is beginning to overwhelm me. My job situation is still what it is. I am still what I am.

I was  thinking of writing a short story about a woman who has regular conversations with her  cat. That story has been told  time and time again so I  won’t attempt to re-tell it. In real life, I’m becoming a cat neglecter (that ‘s not a word). I am a bad mama cat. Most of my attention goes to Sadie (my beautiful puppy). Cammie (our spunky Chihuahua)  gets a lot too. OJ, the elder cat,  gets less attention than Cammie, and Pericles gets the least. Pericles’s problem is that he can’t be in the same room with Sadie. She chases him away  every time he dares to show his little furry orange face.

I’ll post a picture of Pericles just to show I haven’t forgotten him. I wonder if he has a story he’d like me to tell.

Pericles asleep

Pericles

The Lizard/Duck Transformation

I was listening to the Wrestling with Depression podcast today. The episode featured Brendon Burns, an Australian comedian who has had problems with drugs and alcohol. He was talking about coming out of rehab and declaring himself a changed man, and his friends not necessarily believing it. He realized that you’re not really a new man until your friends see evidence of it through your behavior. He also said something about self-awareness only being available through other people’s  eyes.

He made a very insightful analogy. I’m not sure exactly how it was worded, but it boiled down to this: A lizard didn’t start walking and then one day suddenly become a duck. A lot happened in between lizard-dom and duck-dom. I don’t think the science here is solid. But isn’t it fun imagining a lizard suddenly transforming into a duck?

This lizard-duck business started me thinking about my desire to be a writer and to be known as a writer. I realized that I can call myself a writer until the cows come home, but until people can see evidence of my writing, I’m not a writer.

My Different Drummer Belly Dancers bio went live today. In it I declare that I hope to one day make a living as a blogger. I recently read about a study that showed that if you go public with a goal you are less likely to achieve it than if you keep it a secret. We’ll, I’ve gone public and I can’t take it back now, so I’ll have to assume that this study won’t apply to me.

Listening to Brendon Burns strengthened my resolve to write a blog post this evening. I am  determined to prove that I am a writer by writing.

Lizard to Duck