Monday, November 29, 2010

It's been a bugger-all kind of day.

Which, in itself, is a milestone.

I had two doctor's appointments scheduled today. Neither one of them was earth-shatteringly important--one was to tweak the obturator, the other a recheck for a minor, now healed, problem. I cancelled 'em both, as I didn't feel like driving halfway into Bigton and then hours and hours to Yeehawville. I'll reschedule 'em for later, if I don't rebend the obturator wires myself. I didn't sleep well last night and didn't feel much like exerting myself on the highway.

Attila the Trainer came over, and I had a nice little baby workout for an hour. Eight-pound bicep curls? Sure thing. Twenty curls on a balance ball that left me sweating and panting? You bet. Five minutes of walking--dear Heaven--at 3.5 miles per hour and I'm beat? Bring it on.

Then I had lunch and a glass of wine and a long, luxurious nap. I woke up a couple of times and drowsily petted kitty-bellies, then went outside and rubbed Max-belly, then wandered around the back yard taking measurements of various things. Then I changed my sheets.

You will note that absolutely nothing of any apparent importance happened today. I did not break any new endurance records, clean ANY of the things, stay up longer than usual, or eat any new foods. In fact, I laid around most of the day like a lump and spoiled both myself and my animals. I got out in the sun for a while and made some tasty spinach dip. That was really it.

Which, as I said above, is a milestone. Because--and this is something that I just figured out--after a Nasty Diagnosis and a Near Miss Of Something Much Worse, you tend to overschedule things. You want to make every second of every day count, and do something measurably different or better than the day before, every day. It becomes an obsession and then a habit.

Life sucks if you do that, unless you're one of those motivational authors who makes his living publishing books with lots of exclamation points in them. Sometimes kitty bellies are as important as dragging ass up a highway, or scrubbing the floor, or finishing the Christmas shopping.


Penny Mitchell said...

Love, love, LOVE this.

Silliyak said...

I have to practice reading slower, I read you soiled yourself and the animals. I reread it before I proceeded, but there was a moment there...

Allison said...

Your day sounds delightful. Please, sir, may we have another?

Crazed Nitwit said...

You're preaching to the choir here! Glad you has a lovely relatively uneventful day!!

Lynda Halliger Otvos (Lynda M O) said...

Perfect day = changing clothes..... into clean pajamas and venturing no further than the mailbox.

Errrr, isn't the mailbox a slot in the front door?


bobbie said...

Sounds like a perfect day to me!!!
Congratulations ~~~

Albinoblackbear said...

I get nauseated these days if I don't have every moment of time accounted for and used productively. This includes listening to lectures on my ipod while walking to class, peeing with a textbook on my lap, and taking flash cards to lecture with me in case it is a dud lecture.

I really really really needed to read this post of yours this morning. Thank you.

Elyse said...

You nailed it with "apparent importance". Days like that have unseen importance. I love those naps that end when you want them to - and nice dreams aren't ended too soon with the jarring sound of an alarm. And really - being able to do that without pangs of guilt is the best!!

messymimi said...

Emperor Hirohito once had a usual busy day scheduled, and showed up at one event to find that his secretary had gotten it wrong. The great hall, where he had expected to spend time meeting certain people, was empty.

He slowly walked into the large room, sat at the chair that would have been reserved for him had it been the right time, and after about 15 minutes, got up.

He then bowed to the empty room, and as he left told his attendants that they needed to schedule more meetings like that.