Driste

sleep fighting

Terrible Horrible No Good Really Bad dreams last night. Perhaps due to the abnormally large burrito I nibbled on last night at the Taco Temple. And I say nibble because, although I did my best to eat like the true champ that I am, my best was not good enough for this monster. Upon receiving the plate from my lovely tattoed waitress, I mumbled "holy shit, it's bigger than my head," while I pushed the basket of chips far far away (too late, I'm afraid). She said, "we aim to please."

About 30 minutes later, I put down my fork, unable to fathom taking another bite.
Tay: You barely made a dent!
Me: But I ate so much! It was just so big!
Tay: It was bigger than your head!
Me: That's what I said!
Tay: You did? When?

Yes, that's right. We both compare food items to body parts. This was one of those moments when I realize we're truly MFOE.*

Then our waitress had the gall to offer the dessert menu. To which we loudly replied in unison, "NO."

After dinner we enjoyed a lovely sunset on the beach, a truly rare sight to see in Morro Bay in September as our coast is normally blanketed by fog in summer.

And then. Much later. The dreams.

Running for my life from war, from guns, from bombs. Fighting back with grenades, with guns, with every fiber in my being. Trying to protect my loved ones, trying to keep everyone together, but losing people one by one. Waking up trembling, I tried to shake it off, tried to think about meadows or Kula or flowers or jogging in the redwoods..... all the visions that usually bring me peace and joy. Fell back to sleep and back into the dreams right where I left off. When I woke up a second time, I got up and took a little walk around the house, massaged some lavendar essential oil into my temples and below my nose, hoping the scent would change my subconscious paths. No such luck. By the time my alarm went off at 5, I felt physically heavy and exhausted from fighting all night.

The fear from the dream crept into my practice, causing self doubt and self deprication throughout each pose. Mentally, it truly was my worst self practice to date.

And then, after showering.....

Tay: I thought you were getting up for yoga this morning.
Me: I did.
Tay: No way! You just let kula out and got right back into bed!
Me: Nooooo.... I came back to bed after an hour and a half of yoga.
Tay: I don't believe you.

So did I dream it all? No, of course not. Tay's just delusional at 5 a.m. Can't say that I blame him. And he made me smile. For the first time that morning.

*For those of you who haven't seen Sleepless in Seattle thousands of times (yes, I have. And yes, I know I'm a loser), this means Meant For Each Other.

System Failure

Just realized......

Day 3 of what should be Ladies' Holiday (at least according to my Pill).

And still no Ladies' Holiday.

Now entering month two of amenorrhea.

I'm too young for menopause.

Perhaps I should take a fourth preg-O test. Or make yet another doctor's appointment. Maybe they'll give me another ultrasound. It is kind of fun staring at that screen and trying to figure out what the heck one's looking at.

Me: "That's my kidney? Really? How can you tell?"

I am experiencing mild discomfort in my abdominal area. Could be cramps, or perhaps it is only that butter croissant I had at breakfast. Butter equals "no bueno" when one is lactarded, but I continue to ignore that. Call me ignorant. Call me stupid. Call me late for my ladies' holiday. Just don't call me late for breakfast.

a.m. or p.m.

Can't seem to get those two straight. Set my alarm for 5 last night, turns out I set it for 5 P.M.. So I woke up at 7 A.M., not even time for a sun salutation. First word out of the mouth was an expletive, which Tay says is not a good way to start the day. So maybe I can get in a practice this evening, but I doubt it. I just feel so wound up and frustrated that my routine has been completely annihilated. And I'm really not one of those routine freaks, really I'm not. Not like, "Thursdays I have a breakfast burrito at Buzz Cafe and thanks for asking, but I don't hike on Tuesdays...." Although I do know a few people like that. I think my practice is the only routine I have in my day. It's my anchor. It grounds me. The rest of my life just flies around me like a hurricane, papers everywhere, clothes everywhere, and a clock or two just ticking away the hours much too quickly. I really need a 26 hour day.

In other news, REW pierced her nose. And I have wanted to pierce mine for years. And so, today, I'm gonna do it. And when my mom gets mad and asked me why I did it, I'm simply going to say "Because REW did it, and she's so cool." So there.

And I downloaded my Idaho pics on to my computer, and I was going to post them this morning. And then I took a closer look. I had some bloating going on. Y'all know I've been having stomach issues, well apparently I don't travel well. I look like a malnourished person with the distended stomach. Only well nourished, because I've never looked frail or anorexic a day in my life. So maybe I'll have to do some cropping in iPhoto and post pics from the chest up only. Or maybe I'll just say screw it and bare my belly with pride now that I've typed in this disclaimer.