I have a problem. On the one hand, it seems like no matter how much sleep I get lately it is NOT ENOUGH. So getting up a little earlier in the morning for physical activity…well, it’s an idea that always seemed great the night before (cooler temperatures, get it out of the way, etc.) and entirely unappealing when morning dawns. “But…but…45 minutes more of sleep could be MINE!” So I grumble, pull the blankets back up to my chin, and doze off, resolving to go for a walk, a jog, SOMETHING in the cool of the evening.
Then, a whole day of work goes by. You know, where I’m required to be awake and alert, editing and writing and problem-solving and participating in conference calls and generally being a productive member of society. That mess can be exhausting. As if that weren’t enough, I’ve also got to devote some significant time and energy to my hobbit-like eating habits and deciphering what in the world even SOUNDS edible on a given day. That mess is exhausting, too. By the end of the day, Scott comes home to find me sprawled on the couch, watching “Malcolm in the Middle” and determined to resist any attempts at being persuaded to trade my refuge for the great outdoors. “Weren’t you going to go walk tonight?” Incoherent mumbling. “What?” I was going to, but now I’m tired and grumpy and I just want to lie here for awhile. “Ok, well after dinner I’ll go for a walk with you.” Yeah, ok.
But then “Minute to Win It” or “Star Trek” come on and soon enough it’s time for bed…to begin the cycle of laziness all over again.
It’s gotten so bad that I completely missed out on the delightfully cool weather we had a few days last week. Shameful. When the forecast for this week predicted a few more days with low temperatures in the 60’s or even — gasp — 50’s, I pledged to make a change. My biggest excuse for slacking off in the exercise department has been the heat. I can’t let that disinclination turn into a habit that makes me miss out on Fall. Glorious Fall!
So, Tuesday dawns with temperatures in the upper 60’s. Where will you find me at 6:45am? Oh, standing in line at the State DMV, waiting to officially become a Kansas resident. (And then later, standing in line at the Highway Patrol, waiting for my car to be inspected. And then later still, standing in line at the County DMV, waiting to pay for titles and tags. It was quite the eventful AM.) Well, there’s one cool morning gone.
Wednesday rolls around with temperatures in the low 60’s. Nope. No running. Just sleeping. There’s not even a valid reason for it this time. I’ll make no excuses (Although my trend at the moment is to blame EVERYTHING on hormones…crying for a contestant on “America’s Got Talent”? Hormones. Super tired all the time? Hormones. Out of Pringles…again? Hormones.)
Today is probably the last day with Megan-approved AM running temperatures for awhile. Scott and I actually woke up before the alarm went off. I said, “I’m going for a walk today.” Scott managed to conceal his shock like the nice guy he is. He got up and I stayed in bed a moment longer, contemplating the comfort of my pillow and the nice fuzzy blanket and……….crap. I almost fell asleep. Before I can waste another day, I force myself up and out of bed and into running clothes. Then, I hear Scott calling for me. He sounds concerned………crap. That’s sort of the same voice he uses when one of the cats has been violently ill or an entire continent of ants has invaded the kitchen. I venture into the living room as a frantically meowing, small orange cat staggers towards me. Uh-oh.
Turns out that when I shut the door to my office last night to keep the cats away from temptingly chewable cords and books and whatnot, I had accidentally locked the cat inside. And of course, instead of locking away the normal cat who would have meowed, jumped against the door, and generally made enough noise to let us know that emancipation was requested, I closed the door on the small, shy, neurotic cat who vented her distress by rubbing her face against the door frame until she lost some whiskers and fur, chewing up pieces of the carpet, and licking my computer screen. Yes, licking the computer screen. When she gets nervous, she tends to frantically lick things…usually metal things, but in this case an expensive glass computer screen did the trick. When Scott rescued her this morning, there was dried cat drool all over the screen and desk. Gross.
So. It just goes to show you — it’s always something. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Either I sleep past “time to go running!” time or I’m wearing running clothes and alternately cleaning cat drool off the screen and guiltily reassuring the distraught, crazy cat that she’s OK.