I don’t really feel like writing in this thing right now, but I’m making myself.
Being sick isn’t fun, but this is the 2nd time in less than two months. I haven’t been this susceptible to germs in a long time. So, I figure it’s stress. I guess maybe I stressed too much about yesterday’s run. I guess maybe I’m starting to stress too much about work. And for no real good reason I’m stressing about my relationships — friendships, family. Now, I’m listening to Dan Fogelberg. He’s supposed make everything feel better. He’s nostalgic. I guess he does help.
“Same Old Lang Syne.” Friendships are delicate. I wouldn’t say most of mine are fragile, but definitely delicate, intricate. My friends know this. And I don’t know what my deal is lately, but I feel like I should be more proactive about my friendships. I feel like some have the potential to become major FUBARs if I’m not more mindful.
Aww, “Run for the Roses.”
I’m a nailbiter. It’s got to be a nervous habit. However, I’ve limited this compulsion to my thumbnails, but I keep the others short. But on top of that, I pick at my cuticles. It’s a rather disgusting habit. It’s taken a lot of mental energy to convince myself this is only anxiety and not a form of self-mutilation, like those folks who cut themselves as a way of feeling in control of a situation. It’s got to be anxiety, because I just caught myself biting at my thumb, because I’m unsure of what to write here. What a weirdo.
A relaxing book.
Bubble bath with candles around the bathtub.
“Leader of the Band” I remember in Mrs. Bowles’s advanced English class sophomore year we analyzed this song. Replete with metaphors, chock-full of imagery, and lots of discussion about what the song “really” means. It made my heart hurt. I also remember the easy-listening station where my mom invariably (seemingly) had the car radio tuned. This song would play a lot. And it meant so much more after my sophomore year.
You know, if I didn’t bite my nails, I probably wouldn’t get sick as often. There’s a lesson for the ol’ noggin…