Then My Dog Called Me an Asshole with Her Face

This dog. She is very effective at communication with her face

This dog. She is very effective at communication with her face

Okay, it might have been almost a month since I wrote a blog last. I have a really good excuse. Mostly my life went insane again. There were hospital stays (not mine), near death experiences (not mine), and small nervous breakdowns (that one is mine.) Everything is fine now, mostly, but it was pretty bad.

I did learn the doctor gave me the medicine I take at night for a reason. I stopped taking it because I was either staying in the hospital or only home for a short time and didn’t feel comfortable taking medicine that puts me in a light coma for a few hours. By the end of the two weeks of hospitaling, I was having panic attacks every evening and had started my fabulous behavior of picking at wounds. I felt completely sane, calm, cool, and collected. I’ve only missed the medicine once since I got home.

The Viking said something about being amazed that I handled the stress. When I told him about the sore thing, he just shrugged and told me he still thought I handled it well. I plan on keeping him forever. I’m deeply ashamed of the behavior. I feel like it is disgusting and extremely insane. I almost can’t talk about it. He didn’t judge me or think I was gross; he simply accepted it as part of me.

Anyway, there is a 5k run called the Color Run, and I really want to do it. Participating in a 5k has been a dream of mine for several years now, and this one seems like the most fun of all of them. I decided I will find the ticket money somewhere, because I’m doing it this year. I have no illusion of running it. Right now, I would be happy to walk it at a decent pace without having to sit for a few minutes. I just want to finish it. I’ve given up a lot of pieces of myself this past year to take care of things. I’ve quit a lot of things. I want this to be something I do for me. I want this to be a goal I actually complete.

Normal people with my track record of deciding to do things like work out or various other self improvement measure and failing miserably generally stop attempting them, or at least announcing them. Not me. I haven’t decided if it is my flair for life or some twisted insanity. Maybe a flair for insanity? I just feel like the only thing more unbearable than failing at things is giving up on trying.

So, I downloaded a Couch to 5K app (C25K) on my phone. I decided I was going to start yesterday so I put on my hoodie and put my girl dog on her leash. We got to the park and my car told me it was 29 degrees outside. I was determined, so I got us out of the car and started down the path. I stopped to tug on my clothes to get some more warmth somehow, and I glanced down at my dog. She was shivering and calling me an asshole with her eyes. She made me carry her back into the house.

I ended up working out on our stationary bike. I hurt before I was even off the bike. I treated my sore muscles with chocolate wine.  I thought it sounded like a good plan.

Good for what ails you.

Good for what ails you.

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