Once in a while, if I'm really frustrated, I fantasize about somehow being able to look down at the Earth, the stars, the moon and anything that comprises the universe and wield a gigantic middle finger. This is one of those times.
Sorry if I sound like a real "female dog." But I feel like the last 10 days have been somewhat unlucky for me. I'd say incredibly unlucky, but all those people who lost their homes last week in San Diego County and in other parts of So Cal are going through such an ordeal. I can't imagine -- no home, no tangible mementos, almost like your past has been erased. It's because of them that I hope to pick myself up soon and be the big girl I know I can be.
Ever since I pushed myself to jog/walk two Saturdays ago, my shins haven't stopped feeling weird. They hurt pretty bad for the first four days. Today, not so bad but I feel a pulling or tugging sensation in both shins and I just want to know that's normal and nothing to worry about. I've been so psyched about doing this half-marathon. But now I've fallen a bit behind on the training. I have all these concerns that a) I may have done long-term damage to my legs, b)I won't be able to run in the half marathon at all. It's "b" that makes me tear up when I think about it too long. I'll feel like a big fat Failure if I don't get to run it. I wish I could rewind and start this whole process all over.
What else? Oh, a pair of sandals I wore a week ago have given me a rash. Unbeknownst to me, I'm allergic to the dye or something. So, it hurts to walk and the itching is driving me nuts. And this morning, I tried to open a package with a knife and I stabbed my left index finger. It wasn't like I needed to go to the ER but it was definitely more than a little nick. I found nothing in the medicine cabinet but an empty band-aid box. I about lost it. Anyway, I think I have to see a doctor and try to cheer up. I spent most of the weekend sequestered in my apartment with the blinds turned, practicing for my retirement as the grumpy and frumpy old lady who warns the neighborhood kids to get off my property.
Sigh...I don't even have the will to bake and it's Halloween. Doesn't matter. I don't have an audience to bake for. I'd just be stuck with like 8 cupcakes for myself. I don't like it when I'm like this. The things I don't like about Arizona and being here seem to get magnified five times.
Well, guess that's all for now. I need to go write to Santa and ask him for an improved attitude for Christmas.