I’ll think of a title later

It’s been a funny old day, starting very early in the morning when I was dreaming (goodness knows what about) and had a pop at Dan for rolling over in bed, poor boy.  He in turn had a pop at me, then told me unceremoniously to go into the spare room.  Being female I flounced off like it was my idea in the first place.

The alarm went off at 5:20, I peered at it as if to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but staggered out of bed and pulled on my yoga clothes and dragged a brush through my hair.  Dylan took the class today, my first boy instructor and he was good too, we had two newbies in, and he was constantly giving us extra tips and descriptions for us to follow.  For those who haven’t done Bikram Yoga before, the instructor rarely demonstrates, they talk you through the poses, complete with several ‘Bikram’ phrases; ‘Pulling is the object of stretching; from the side you will look like a ham sandwich; go back, fall back, way back’.  I am not sure if this is so you learn about your body, and push yourself more each time, either way it works.  Although I find it difficult at times to see what I am doing from the side, (ham sandwich or not), as I am looking straight ahead at myself getting pink and sweaty in the mirror, every class I can feel a difference.  Every time I am getting more and more used to the poses and pushing further.  I am getting abs back, my back isn’t hurting as much and I am sitting and standing straighter.

I drove to work after having an illuminating conversation with Marcelle, another instructor, and reminded myself that it is just a job.  I called DG we both apologised for being grumpy and decided we’d have an early night, now my early night doesn’t marry up with his, I am talking 8:30, whereas he is about 10:30.

 I got my head down over my desk and cleared quite a lot, but hit a wall about 2:30 when I thought it was 4:30 and did a double take against the clock, that was depressing.  Getting home, DG had prepped dinner for tonight and cooked another one for tomorrow when I am in the city getting my hair cut.  We chatted through my little wibble last night, decided that it was a combination of stress, being hot and listening to my audiobooks while I try and sleep.

Because my mind is going a mile a minute, I am struggling to sleep, it is consuming me, so I concentrate on the words being spoken to switch off and sleep.  It is similar to what I was like when my marriage was falling apart, I would read to go to sleep, drop the book, wake up.  Read, get sleepy eyes, book down, light off, wake up.  This carried on for weeks, until I was a wreck.  In the end I was given a few sleeping tablets to take, but the after effects were worse than not sleeping, for one – the revolting taste in my mouth for the whole morning, so I only took 2 or 3.

I have a doctors appointment on Friday, I need a prescription for my scalp lotion, I will also talk to him about everything at work, see what he comes up with.  It is now 8:34, I’m off to bed.  Night!

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