So on Sunday, we had a very LAZY day at my house. We didn’t do anything. We gave Ruxbin a bath. We ate dinner. We went on a walk. We loafed. And yawned. I was just tired. Not tired enough to nap. I didn’t nap. I was just tired enough to not do anything at all. Then Monday came. A new tired. The “Bone deep fatigue” the books talk about. I do half my day at work, and take some things home to make up time I was missing. I was exhausted. I took a nap. I woke up just as tired. No better, no worse. Just droopy eyed, yawning, eye rubbing tired. How in the world am I going to function with that? Oof. Yawn.
The interesting thing about food is: there are things I can’t eat anymore. Sausage (in sausage form) is one of them. I can eat breakfast sausage in a patty. I cannot eat it in the link. I think it’s the skin. I can’t think about it too much or I get nauseated. Also, meat. Jim made a steak on Sunday. Not for me. Bleck. I was able to eat a piece, but the thought of it grosses me out. Any food I think about when I’m already full makes me nauseated. And I don’t have wicked cravings, but I do think about things out of the blue (ramen noodles, cheetos puffs, etc) that make me feel MMM! Jim is really good about picking those things up from the store . He’s a sweetheart.
Know how I just told you how exhausted I was? Well I can’t sleep. It’s 11am now. I went to bed at 9am 2 hours is far too long to be trying to go to sleep. I’m too hot. I get “restless legs.” Ruxbin wants to sleep with me be he’s hot and cuddly. And I move around a lot. And I feel bad because he’s trying to be with me, but I can’t sleep with him. And I think he’s got fleas. So he’s itchy and I can feel them bouncing so I’m itchy. And we did the flea stuff and it didn’t work and we have to wait a month before we can put the good stuff on him and I don’t know if I can wait a month. I’m tired and I can’t sleep. Awesome.
Finally got to sleep and wasn’t really sleepy during the day. Weird. I’ve been going to ballet on Wednesdays and although I can’t do the moves I can watch the moves. Basically, the books say I can’t put any pressure on any joints to move in a way they aren’t accustomed to. That’s pretty much the concept of ballet, in my opinion. Turning out is pushing your hips to a direction that is not only unnatural, but also tricky. Also, you’re not supposed to do anything where more than one foot is off the ground. Good bye, glissade. Also, you’re not supposed to do anything where you might be off balance, since you’re going to lose your balance, the bigger you get. Again, that’s what ballet is. So, I watch instead. It keeps me halfway in the know of what’s going on at the studio, but doesn’t keep my butt as firm as it did when I was actually participating in burn-barre. They say I can run, though. They obviously don’t know me.
Also this week: I had a dream that Ruxbin died. I got blue toenails (I think that was this week). The baby’s the size of a grape and I went to a cookout! It was a busy week, which is why this is a couple days late. Sorry, Mom.