It's What You Make of It

I'm still tired but not crabby anymore. I got up to get the kids off to school and went back to bed, sleeping until 10:35. I know it was 10:35, because I woke up, looked at the clock and freaked out. I set the alarm for 10. Upon further inspection, I realized John got AM and PM mixed up when resetting the clock last night. Our power has been going out lately, and we've been doing a lot of clock resetting. Thank goodness I woke up in time to get dressed and pick Booie up from school. I could have slept another couple hours the way I've been feeling.

I have a headache, and I can't seem to get enough sleep. I don't have any cold symptoms. I don't have any other symptoms at all, unless my butt isn't really sore from my bike seat but from some rare butt aching disease that also causes headaches and tiredness. My rear is feeling better today though, but the headache still lingers. I'm forcing myself to work today, even though I don't feel like it at all. This isn't debilitating, just annoying.

I really must go buy some coffee. All I have in the house is decaf, and that isn't cutting it on these tired days. I have cut my coffee consumption back dramatically, but I don't think it's caffeine withdrawal causing my problems, but I could be wrong. Still, wouldn't I feel better once I had the super-size coffee from Dunkin Donuts? I would think so, but I don't. I'm tired despite the truckload of caffeine screaming through my system after drinking that trough cleverly disguised as a cup of coffee.

I'm probably just a hypochondriac and making up these things wrong with me. Or maybe I'm suffering from not-doing-enough illness. I'm just glad I don't have BDD (body dismorphic disorder). I watched a program on this illness on the Discovery Channel last night. I thought I was obsessed with myself. After seeing this, I realize how average I am. Almost all of the people on that show were very good-looking, but they thought they were ugly. Very strange how the mind works sometimes.

I watched that after watching a program about obesity. I watched the obesity show while doing my strength training workout for the day. Nothing like hearing about how fat our country is to make you want to get off your own fat ass. Most impressive was the couple that lost weight through that surgery like Carnie Wilson (who happened to narrate the show) had and climbed into a pant leg each of the pants the man used to wear. Absolutely amazing.

That program was showing all kinds of shots of people walking down the street, in the park, coming out of fast food restaurants; all of them fat and faceless, as examples of the fat America we have become. Please God, never let me be one of those. Can you imagine finding out you were one of those anonymous models? I would die of humiliation, even if no one knew it was I.

You know what's completely unfair? There's a guy down the street from us who isn't an ounce overweight. He's probably on the low side of his weight range. He appears to be quite healthy. He's a super-sweet man with a great family. Thirty-nine years old, and he has a massive heart attack. He was dead for eleven minutes in the hospital before they revived him. He was doing fairly well until a setback last week that put him in a coma. It's so very sad.

This is turning into one of those "world gone wrong" speeches, but that's not what I believe. I think it's more of a "live life to the fullest every minute" speech. Sometimes living life to the fullest can be a lot of work though. And there's not necessarily anything wrong with not doing a whole lot as long as that's what makes you happy. So I guess it's more of a "do what you enjoy" speech. Don't be miserable. Appreciate the good. Minimize the bad. All that motivational stuff.

Today is another counseling day for us. We need to be taught how to do all that stuff I just said with each other. The doctor said we seemed better with each other last week, less angry. I didn't feel particularly upset the first time, but we are much happier at home now. This week we are supposed to talk about the touchy subject of division of labor, household chores, and responsibility at home. In other words, stop being such damn pigs. I'll probably get to sit through John's "I work ten hours a day" rant, where he works eight hours and has a minimum two hour commute that gets tacked onto the time he works. That crap doesn't fly with me and never has. I would love that commute time to read. Anyway, without going off on a rant, that's what I think is going to happen, but it's not always the way it works out. Hopefully our MMPI results will be back. I'm really curious about those.

Until then, I have work to do and a bike seat to buy. I didn't do my biking on Sunday in order to save my ass more torture. I'm doing that today or tomorrow instead, once I have a better seat for my delicate fanny. So I'm not really slacking. Really.