For a person whose, according to a recent sleep study, “brain never shuts down, even after six hours of supposed sleep”, the bed looks inviting this morning. However, I’ve learned that if I don’t grab the day by the minute hand as soon as I open my eyes, all is lost. So after a quick caffeine and chocolate fix (Shame! I was doing so well 😦 , I mentally vow to get things off to the right start instead of crawling beneath the covers in my mix-match jammies and fuzzy socks.
In goes Classical Stretch into the DVD player, pop goes my shoulders and knees, and I hear a crunch…somewhere. But that’s okay. On this Friday, March 21st, 2014, my joints and body parts will bend at my command, I shall emerge from the next fourteen hours relaxed, refreshed; and when I waltz into the local massage parlor at 1 p.m., they will not compare my muscles to “brick walls” (seriously, she did); and nothing bad will happen upon leaving the parlor–unlike the first time when a man’s brakes went out, resulting in a four-car accident, which included my mom and myself; or the following month when my car broke down a couple hours later. Nope, this time will be great! I am in control of myself and my anatomy.
After getting warmed up, I’m amped and grinning. If I hurry, I figure I might get in another shower and a quick shampoo, maybe even some writing before the phone rings, or a mini-emergency strikes, or a monkey wrench gets thrown into the schedule.
But dog darn the phone vibrates, and I’m inclined to answer because I have this thing; I find it nearly impossible to lie, and I’ve always imagined the person on the other end as some omnipotent being who knows I’m purposely ignoring the phone. The woman in yoga pants instructing me to stand tall with tail bone tucked and back straight is put on pause.
Other titles take over just as I am leaning into a forward stretch. You know the ones—mentor, sales consultant, mommy (Thing 2, who is barely out of preschool, decided she wanted purple contacts, which lasted all of four hours before she demanded her glasses again, which means a trip to the eye clinic, again. And so on and so forth. And that is life…
I have learned that sometimes that part of you that you identify with most gets lost in the shuffle of every day life.