Brain Lapses and Meta Sadness

Three little anecdotes, either because 1) the public shouldn’t know every lapse I have beyond three, or 2) I have been extremely alert and conscientious, and I only have three imperfections to report. You choose.

At church:

  • One time during the final hour of the three-hour block, I was walking around as usual, finding new people to talk to and asking people to offer the opening and closing prayers. I walked from the front of the room toward the left side (stage left/house right) and rammed my leg into a chair in the middle of the first row. An aisle divided the rows of chairs and my leg bumped into the first chair of the first row on the left side. It seems in a subconscious effort not to bump my tummy into anything, I leaned the upper half of my body away from the chairs while I let my legs continue in a straight line toward the chairs. It did not hurt, but I asked myself if I had bumped into more things I wasn’t aware of. No bruises, but a new weird self-awareness of my body.
  • Another day during the first hour of the three-hour block, Reilly and I were listening to one of the first two speakers. It might have been a young man who told a story about the time his mom told him not to eat candy in bed, but he kept a stash of candy under his pillow, and he checked the hallway to make sure his mom wasn’t coming to his room. He ate one piece, then another piece. He then heard his name in a whisper, so he checked the hallway again. No one was coming. He ate a few more pieces. He checked the hallway again, and no one was there. He ended up eating all the candy, savoring every piece. Then he heard his name again and his mom jumped out of the closet and busted him for disobeying the rules. When he concluded his talk (about obedience) and the congregation said “Amen,” I didn’t say “Amen.” Instead, I raised a sustaining (or opposing) hand. I realized what I’d done, but I leaned over to Reilly to make a comment about the talk and  didn’t look around. Looking around would have made me look guilty.

Just yesterday:

  • I met up with some coworkers for lunch up in Salt Lake. As in most cases where I don’t know people very well, I mainly kept to myself and listened to everyone else talk. One person ordered the white bean burger, another person ordered French onion soup, one person ordered the crab macaroni and cheese, and I ordered a blackened salmon sandwich. All the orders looked amazing (most food still looks incredible to me), but I want to talk about my sandwich. The decently-sized fish filet was well seasoned and perfectly cooked. It came dressed with baby spinach and a nice tangy mayo inside a sliced fresh ciabatta roll. Then there were a side of fries, which were also so very yummy. I cut my enormous sandwich in half, then I cut one of the halves into quarters. Everyone around me kept talking, and I listened while slipping into food ecstasy. While listening and occasionally interjecting nods and chuckles, I finished the two quarters of the sandwich and most of the fries, and almost an hour had passed. We paid our checks and I asked for a box, excited to get home and have my leftovers for dinner, perhaps even let Reilly have a bite. I readied the sandwich for departure. My coworkers and put on our coats and headed out. I did turn around and check the table to make sure I didn’t forget my wallet. Satisfied that I had remembered my wallet, I joined the others outside. When we got back to the office, I realized I left my sandwich at the restaurant. My heart instantly broke. I sulked on the train home. My forgotten sandwich is probably why I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m still very sad about it.

The last story is the saddest because it’s my biggest, most tragic lapse during this pregnancy. Not pregnant, I’ve forgotten my food at restaurants, but I haven’t been this pathetic about it. While I can certainly blame “pregnancy brain” for this indiscretion, such blame will not bring the sandwich back. I guess I could also blame my hormone-befuddled brain for my intense affinity for sandwiches (HOLY CRAP I LOVE SANDWICHES), without such affinity I would not be in deep mourning.

So far this morning I had breakfast, did some homework, and did some yoga. My tummy feels good, Baby Girl has been moving around, and my back has responded well to the stretching. I even had a small second breakfast while writing this post. And I may even be up to making my own damn good sandwich for lunch.

I can get through this.

About Three Years

Last night, I went to mapmyrun.com – which I haven’t used in three years – and logged in and mapped a two-mile route. Then I ran that route this morning. I still feel pretty incredible, and it’s been almost twelve hours. I went really slow, about a 10-minute pace, as I hadn’t run outside in cold weather in a very long time. I remember training for the Austin half-marathon a while back, and that was during the winter, but I had a rule of not running when it’s below 30 degrees. Well, this morning, it was about 20 degrees, but it wasn’t too bad, given the dryness of Utah. Plus, after five minutes, I was nice and toasty, but I still had a little trouble breathing. Not because of elevation, but because I’m out of shape. I didn’t stop, though; that sort of surprised me.

This is one of my routes in New York City. I’m not going to post today’s route because I don’t feel like giving any weirdos out there my location.

Folks

I’m fine. I go through little bouts of loneliness and self-pity, and it wasn’t nice of me to fall silent for a couple days on such a melancholy note. Things are looking up.

For those who provided advice and encouragement and support, thank you.

I’ve been offered a job where I can work from home. It involves writing (yay!), but it limits me creatively somewhat (meh). But it’s cash flow, which is what I need.

Another company also extended another round of interviews for hiring in New York City, and I let them know where I am and declined the offer. She said she’d let me know if they’re looking for anyone to work from home.

These both happened on Monday, after I boo-hooed, and during the time many of you asked how I was doing, making sure I was okay. I do have to say that was the quickest hour of intense misery I’ve ever experienced.

Again, thank you.

Yesterday I went to the gym, and today I can not wash my hands without feeling the burn in all my major muscle groups.

I hope I recover quickly.

I smell like pool.

I swam in the hotel swimming pool this morning. With less people around (I was the only one in the pool), I was able to analyze my technique more. My backstroke was a lot better. I worked on my kick being less frantic, because I need to ration my energy over a half-mile. I also worked on rotating my hips as a countermotion to extending my arms for each stroke. I worked on breathing, too.

The other day when I went swimming at the rec center early in the morning, the rest of the day I had so much energy. Interesting occurrence. I wonder if that happens every time. I also had gotten sufficient sleep the night before. Last night, I went to bed at 2AM. So.

How did I become such an old lady? I wake up stiff every morning, and the only way past it is to warm up my body with some exercise and concentrated stretching. Heat on the shoulders and neck works, too.

Today, we’re going to tackle Maine like we haven’t done before. Actually, we’ll probably do a lot of the same things we’ve done over the years. Which I love. Otherwise, we wouldn’t do them. Yay, lobster rolls! We’ll do some new things, too.

It’s so bizarre that Gustavo threatens the Gulf Coast the same weekend Katrina did four years ago, during our first Maine trip. I’m praying for those guys.

I have two reasons why gaining weight wasn’t all that bad.

What, you actually want me to list them? Designate them in some way? My left reason, and my right reason? Give them names or something? Come on, people.

Today, I worked up a sweat. Like, a real one. Like the ones they fake in movies. Normally I don’t sweat so much it seeps through my clothes. But today, my front neckline was soaked. I felt like such a big deal. Like I was tough. Like I could kick serious hiney. Yay, exercise!

The weather here has been so wonderful: lows in the 60s and highs in the low 80s. Yesterday morning during my swim I thought the water might be a little on the cool side, but once I got going, the water was quite nice.

It’s about time to go to Maine. The highs forecast are in the 70s, and it’s supposed to be gorgeous. We’re also going to be making another movie while we’re there, but we don’t know yet anything about plot or genre, so any ideas would be greatly appreciated.