jaeleslie

Although I don't seem to be feeling all that bad, maybe that is the zombie talking as my body seems to be acting up in more ways than I want to enumerate. More stress can't possibly be good for me. Maybe it was the mysterious salad dressing, or the pretty green drinks at NotNick's pub meet last night, where I behaved badly (in my own perception) and laughed uproariously when I had the chance but didn't rip anyone's head off. Waking up at four in the morning for a couple of hours is not the best start to the day either, makes it run into yesterday.

So today I am taking a day off of the workout, sent Mr S off to do his thing at the shop. I've been chipping away at it all this week, slowly slowly, and taking my walks, and yesterday (after I had spent the morning throwing together a brilliant little zine for the new apa I am in) I had a talk with myself to say, Self, you're keeping up, there's time for everything, nothing is going critical, let up with the pressure already.

Barb always says I accomplish so much, but I know how much time I am wasting. Hardly breaking stride I am back into it, up to my ears, taxes not done, books piling up, art projects on permanent hold, and so forth. There's a war on, and an epidemic of viral pneumonia sweeping the world, and I can't work out what readable format to email my friend replyhazy the photo I took of hippos in the San Diego Zoo... Have the Romanovs fallen yet?