Today’s blog post title is brought to you by Rihanna’s new single. No particular reason; just dig the song.
This week found me waking up at 5am in an attempt to add some variety in my workout routine. I’ve never really hidden the fact that I hate working out. Maybe if I’m half asleep while I’m at the gym, I won’t really be coherent enough to think about how much I hate it.
It was a good idea, in theory. And I actually don’t mind heading to the gym pre-dawn. However, by Thursday I was just DONE. I was so exhausted from waking up so early, I was stressed due to work, and I was losing a battle with my depression. Which usually I’m able to fight through, but not this past Thursday night. I managed to eat soup. But mostly I just sat on the couch, catatonic. The exhaustion hit me so hard. I slept from about 630pm until about 11. Then I sat some more. Then I slept some more. There was crying in between the sleeping. I was inconsolable. And of course, it was a night that Eric had off. So I felt unbelievably guilty that on a night that he was actually around, I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything.
I seem to have come out on the other side of that, though.
I’m debating continuing the 5am wake-ups for the gym. Maybe sometimes I’ll do it. Right now I’m wondering if I need to take a few more days off from the gym. I was having twinges in my chest a few months ago, which my doctor said was most likely just me having pulled a muscle in my ribs or something while working out (at the time I was taking a kickboxing class). THAT twinge seems to have gone away, but I seem to just have some sort of ache or twinge or something, somewhere on an almost daily basis. Which, is frustrating after about 5 months of regular workouts. I would hope that my body would be used to it by now. But then again, maybe I’m just getting old.
This past week, I finally got an office (as opposed to a cube) at work. The last time I had an office was one that I shared about 10 years ago. For the past 2 years, I’ve been at an oddly shaped desk at a half-cube that was definitely not ergonomically correct. I had to twist about 1/3 of the way to type at my computer. So maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s bad posture. Maybe it’s sleeping curled up in a little ball, all smushed up, like I do.
Or maybe I’m just having heart attacks every day. You never know. But I can breathe fine, so I’m guessing that I’m not dying. I just feel like I have some sort of muscle cramp, like I’m just sore and stiff.
I’m totally not a spritely youth anymore, am I? *sigh*
Because all the achiness and mental issues of this past week, I spent most of this weekend (when I wasn’t out karaoke-ing) just relaxing. Didn’t help that it was doing that raining thing here in San Diego. It’s rare, but when it does happen, it freakin’ monsoons, and it’s very chilly and raw outside. So I get that reminder of every time I’ve sprained my ankles or that time that I screwed up my back. You know when old folks say they can predict the weather by their aches and pains?
Yeah, that’s me.
About a half hour ago, I was watching THIS episode of Bridezillas. This show never EVER fails to make me (and apparently a lot of other people) wonder: What kind of crazy wackadoodles are the guys who actually MARRY these bitches???
But now the AMAs are on. It breaks my heart, in a way, that a lot of the artists performing can’t actually…sing – LIVE – all that well. I mean, I’m hardly one to judge, since I’m just a karaoke singer at a little neighborhood bar. But I’ve been singing all my life. Choir Chick represent, yo. I’d like to think I know a little bit about things like…pitch.