I just had too much to get done yesterday to do a post. If I do do a post, then I'm always going back to check if there are any comments. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm vain, but that's just the way it is. If I don't post, I don't have that nagging, "Check and see if there are any new comments" tape playing in my brain. Plus we had a big ass snow and sleet storm that left a foot of HEAVY snow-ice that I had to deal with. Patio, front walkway and dig the car out. As I was huffing and puffing, I thought about what great cardio it is, but what I didn't think about was the noodle arms I was going to have this morning. As I was digging out the car ( I made a nice perfect rectangle even though I probably could have done half the effort to get out, but I wanted it to look nice, lol) Serge hung his head out the window and called me a freak. He said that because I was in quite a mood yesterday. I woke up with a bad case of the blues, and this happens every so often (monthly maybe?) and I'm just on the verge of tears (inside) all through the day. These kinds of days are filled with me giving myself pep-talks, "it's just hormones, there's nothing wrong, your body just wants to exercise the sad muscle" and busying myself, must keep moving, don't find thoughts to feed the misery. Because, you know, when you're in the pits, it's EASY to find things to be depressed about. Even when there are none.
It was easy to keep busy, as there were all my preparations for the new courses that started. I have to take the students' stated objectives and plan the exercises and activities based on that for the 15 week session. Each class is different and takes several (unremunerated) hours to plan out. I finished up about sundown and chilled with a martini, our weekend ritual. As it's the beginning of the month, we expected to receive rents and we have from the "good" tenants (like us when we were tenants, always paying our rent in a timely fashion) but of course, we have to run after a couple of them so they can give us their excuses. We always say the same thing, "We have bills and budgeting to do too, and we're reasonable people, just inform us before when you know you're going to be late, don't wait for us to come see you and then you spring it on us." Still it's the weekend, banks don't open til Monday, so who cares really. Oh wait, that's the depression concoction of hormones talking again. I think I'll wheedle Serge into accosting them today.
What else? Blah blah blues. That's where I'm at. There's something strangely sweet about it though. Melancholy. Sweet sadness. Tomorrow's Monday. Peace.