I went into hospital for a day last week, the culmination of a period of awfulness which I won’t dwell on as it was also the grossest thing ever, which no-one needs the details of…
Since then I’ve been trying to get on the beach every day, and do some yoga every day, for the last week or so. Not just trying, but bloody determined, to inch towards health again.
Today I decided to do both at the same time. Lovely. Morning yoga on a blissfully quiet beach in the sunshine, with just my dog, the rocks and the waves.
Until two ‘regular tourists’ (the kind who come several times a year) came and sat two feet from me. Literally, two feet away. I was in warrior three. They could have counted the stitches on the crotch of my leggings. Personal space, anyone?
I looked over, brows raised, but they didn’t move. So I finished my sequence, grabbed my jumper, and moved myself. Breathed deep, really deep, did some ‘fierce lion breaths, yeah’ and carried on with my practice.
I thought I dealt with it quite well. They are usually nice people, and I didn’t want to return rudeness for rudeness. They are also customers so it’s best to avoid the kind of rude I would have been. (What the actual fuck? Do you want to sit ON me? Because this couldn’t be any MORE uncomfortable than it already is!)
Unfortunately, I was mad as a cut snake. My emotions are a bit all over the place as I come off the antidepressants and recover from everything else. That or I just have PMT.
Then there was the silly cow with the insane dog…but we won’t get into that one.
Yoga and the beach, the things that always centre me – did not work!
But I went out for a lovely lunch and had a moan at my other half about it. Then we discussed going on holiday – much better.
Then I had a shift in the Gallery. I intended to listen to some folk and make some more delicate drop earrings. I ended up listening to a lot of P!nk (explicit versions, ha) and making some big, bold statement pieces with lots of hammering involved. And I priced them higher than usual, because I am proud of them. I don’t even care if they sell or not.
That and a kick-ass training session (which felt easy, despite or maybe because of my week off training) and some writing, and I feel I’m on a bit more of an even keel.
Wonder what’ll capsize me tomorrow?! (No. Should be good. Family time.)
Cakes? Oh yeah. Made some sick cacao and peanut butter protein balls this eve. Not really cakes. But I liked the title.