Today I left work thinking, "This week can suck it." Two weeks of the flu and an abrupt reentry into work. Still not feeling well, I'm slammed with projects and having more piled on by the moment. (Some of them make little sense, but that's another story.) And then to top it off, a very good friend shared some really nasty things someone said behind my back, and I'm at a loss about what to do about it. So it was hardly surprising to get on the bus tonight only to realize... There was no heat. And it was 3°. Niiiiice.
By the time I got home, I could no longer feel my toes. Quickly the animals started to cheer me up. For example, is anyone else's dog stuck under their entertainment center right now? No? Just me? Greeeeat. At least she has a cute butt. Idiot!
I didn't feel like doing anything tonight, tired and angry. But while I was preparing my pets' meals, my phone buzzed to remind me that if I really hustled, I could make it to yoga. And I rallied.
Brian led a very challenging class. By all indications, even the most experienced people found it to be tough. Whenever Brian instructed us to sigh, the size were plentiful and authentic. This was one of those classes that pushes you to the edge of your limits; there were moments when I wasn't sure I could keep going. And just when I thought I couldn't push my body any harder, Brian would come over and manipulate me to get even deeper into the pose. My muscles tremored and my hands were so slick with sweat I thought I'd fall. Suddenly it seemed ironic that I was paying for this abuse—even Brian was joking about torturing us. But I smiled through those disruptive, counterproductive thoughts and I didn't give up.
I feel so much better now! Yoga really helps clear my head, and gives me strength. And, that reminds me that life is much the same way: sometimes you just have to push through. No matter how hectic it gets, no matter how tired you are, no matter how unkind people may be—even the ones you were sure had your back. Having a negative outlook doesn't make it easier.
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up some fresh fruits and veggies. I got one of the familiar checkout guys. Tonight he looked like his nose may have been broken; it was swollen and bruised, and had a cut on it. I didn't ask him about it, but it looked like it hurt!
He asked me how I was doing, and I said I was great. I asked him how he was doing, and he gave me the same response he always gives, "It's always good to be working."
"Indeed," I said, noting that, like always, he sounded genuine and cheerful, though I'm sure his job isn't easy, and doesn't pay much. And again, I reminded myself that complaining about something doesn't have a secret, magical power to make you feel better.
Finally, I came back home, ate some dinner, and put my feet up on the couch. And here, Kismet demonstrates the feline version of putting your feet up on the desk. Except it's not a desk, it's my kitchen cabinets. Hopefully I will be on easy street like she is, soon.