Spring cleaning, nasty cramps and a puppy

To make our lives even more complicated, we just got home with a new puppy. A girl Malinois. Lyra is getting a wee bit old; she isn't as enthusiastic about my adventures as she used to be, plus she's either entirely deaf or just more 'on the ignore' mode - we will never know. 

            We've had to thoroughly clean the bathroom for the doggo now, and tomorrow we'll attempt to paint and clean the kitchen... That's three out of five rooms, undergoing a thorough purge. The cats are not happy. But I bought them a woven rag basket and are now taking turns keeping it warm. (I'll buy them another.) The puppy got a ton of toys but of course, she is playing with an old sock she found. Lyra stole one of the tennis balls and hid it in her bed. 

           ... Too tired to write more. Will do soon :D . 

Looks like that brush with Covid will have some consequences after all. As for the illness itself, I didn't even feel it. In fact, I don't even know WHEN I had it - just before G or just after. The tests showed hints of infection, but I didn't even sneeze. 

       And yet ... two weeks later, I am still so tired. My muscles feel like old chewed-up spat-out gum. I am sleepy, uninspired, I need red bull just to gain the ambition to work. I go jogging every day, but every day it's like beating a dead horse. When I eat chocolate, it tastes like someone who was a smoker kept it in their hand for a while. When I drink my cocoa, it tastes spoilt. Most of everything else, it tastes like ghosts, like hints of flavor and fragrance. I can tell it's there, but through a thin foil. 

       Body, buddy, snap out of it. It's almost April. I need to get my mojo on. I want to jog and feel jumpy. For the first time in ages I saw my reflection in a store window and thought: whoa, okay, I actually have really good legs! I need to be ready for the puppy. Two more months and we should be getting it, love love love

I continue to generate a little bit of body dysmorphia, hating my stomach and hating the size of my boobs, resulting in an eating disorder. But just a little. I had been coming down with a gross cold for the past two days, and yesterday on my way to a salad bar, I veered into McDonalds, murdering a Chicken burger and small fries: the body was so short on salt, I was starting to get dizzy on top of everything bad I'm feeling (totally stiff shoulders and back, coughing, sneezing, sniffles, headache, acid reflux and peeing all the time.). I test myself twice a day, but I don't have Covid, just a cold. The General, whom I haven't seen since Saturday, as he is self-isolating on the other side of the apartment, does have the 'Rona, and is experiencing a crappy flu. Man flu. It's, like, the worst flu anyone has ever had. 

On the plus news, I've bought myself running shoes. Not sure I ever had running shoes before, always trekking, and they are so fluffy! There was a little bit of a need for practical investigation, as I need a) a super comfy toe box and b) a bouncy sole. And the size needs to be two numbers up. Ironically, the coolest-looking pair, and the most costly, wasn't at all as comfortable as I was expecting it will be. Ultimately the cute colours had to be sacrificed for the practical aspects and, well, now I own a pair of running shoes. All I need now is another two energetic dogs to drag me, as Lyra no longer falls for my promises of dull dry biscuits if she helps me uphill... 

March

 Hello, diary. How goes?

I am more or less great. It's still bleak and wintery, minus the snow, so I do miss the sunlight, but I've been compensating by going to my gym extra, keeping warm. The weather lady says any day now :))

The fun part was, I was getting really nervous, edgy, jittery, and kinda worried all the time - I even invented a new way to manifest my anxiety: I've been scratching the inside of my ear!! Only when I mentioned this to G, puzzled, he replied: You haven't eaten in eight days. 

Oh. Right. We're on our March diet. It's not that we're not eating, it's just that we are eating waaaaaaay less - in my case, I drink organic vegan cocoa twice a day and then have either a little salad or seeds/nuts/granola mix. I do feel better, and energized, but I also feel insane. These diets are like a mental illness. I'm scratching my poor ear raw. 

Concerning work, I was locked for a bit, but now I started working and it's going well - haven't published anything new yet; I've given myself until the 10th. Twelve new paints so far. Can easily make ten or so more...  Not to jinx it.

Concerning karate: every time I learn something new and something more and something better.  Benefits of having five instructors, I suppose. Took me five months to realize what I'm doing wrong with my kicking. Turns out, I can actually kick fairly well. Since we've been sparring with G, I can also defend myself fairly well. But it's not really possible to punch through his defenses. Yes, I can murder a small child with a punch, but a grown, 6'6 270 pound man... not so much. His arms are twice as long as mine. Plus, usually in life, one doesn't get into fights with small children. G has been communicating with the hot instructor, giving him the green light to beat the bedid Jesus out of me if I don't behave. Good thing this instructor is also the most skilled and can paint a self-portrait with his kicking foot, but isn't rough. Several teenage boys in the club are rough as fuck. But he, who is by far the strongest and fastest, never harmed me once, yet. Then again I'll assume he's seen a naked woman by now and knows that big boobs are very sensitive. Teenage boys don't. 

Concerning stamps... I KNOW I swore no more stamps, but ... those beautiful bastards sent me a catalog. I am so screwed.... O.O 

February

Okay, so it's been two months since my last post and there have been ups and down and tiny stuff, not really worth mentioning, good and bad. I had two nasty bouts of depression with slightly scary suicidal moments, but also some excellent days, creative, productive, impressed, and inspired. 

I suppose my biggest crushes these days have been the Cats on Apple Trees stamps, which I think I've more or less purchased all (except the word ones and aquatic animals, bar a large octopus which was so cute); then an unexpected discovery of SOLO Board games, which... holy cow. I did NOT know those were an option. I absolutely love the idea and cannot wait to have enough money to get a few 😁 Luckily they are hella expensive and so ... Slowly, snail, slowly. Not to mention I had to purchase a new printer and a new screen, which both stopped working at the same time, and I got myself some JBL headphones, which I absolutely adore. They are really really pleasant. I thought I will miss my tiny ancient iPod too much and yet I haven't touched it since. Comfy and effective.

My biggest crush these past few weeks has been the vicious karate instructor, though, the hot Bosnian Serb - whom I've known the longest of the lot and yet 15 years ago I don't think I even dared look at him, let alone speak with him. And there had never been any doubt that he is effective, but to actually see him come out of retirement for a brief moment, to promote his club, and execute everyone else as if it's a walk in the park (it was a national tournament) ... I have never wanted to rip someone's keikogi off with my teeth as much as I want to see that man naked. I've edited a ton of his pictures and he's just ... You know me. I value the photogenic aspects of any event, let alone a battle. Who wants a boring battle?  

        It's not just that he's savage and beautiful, no - the main erection I got from all of it was because for the first time I've used Perko, my new camera (which I bought a year ago), setting it so that it followed a specific person and for the first time since I have it, I succeeded in gripping the focus and tracking the speedy movement of unpredictable subjects. That whole event combined - Go's victory, his friendly attitude towards me, and success in making good (sharp) sports photos... well. Consider the sense of self for the winter season elevated ...

Our main instructor was also the main referee and I don't think I've ever seen the man as proud or cheerful as he was that day. Would have given my left elbow to see him fight one day, though.

See how nice it is when people actually pose for me? Look at that face. He looks so sad and so... calm at the same time. I could take a hundred more portraits of him... if he stood still long enough.

Fantastic form on the man. He wasted no movement, no boasting or posturing... Just... like a mungo. 

The only other member of that club, Go's old master, was a kata master. Terrific performance, too.

His opponents looked absolutely miserable, continuously backing into the line, knowing it will all be over soon. Plus I noticed he tugs on his pants before he takes someone's head off with his foot. 

 

Gotta give it to my brain, it's not as dumb as it looks. I had a dream about my grandma calling me, to complain about how we haven't visited these past two years since she's not been awake (she's 102) - it's her birthday and she used to do it all the time, throwing tantrums when we didn't visit enough (and when we did, she just threatened to kill herself because we don't love her and she's a burden and we're ungrateful people...) So, you know, fun family stuff.. 

But the brain was, like: hm, but you've been asleep for two years and extremely senile before that, certainly too senile to form coherent sentences... (She would talk in oddly disjointed concepts that I could easily interpret, as I speak 'after stroke', having some experience with dad's seizures.) 'This can't be right. Is this a dream? '

I of course woke up instantly at that time, as dreams run away if they are busted. Good job, brain.

What a slow day...

 ... The last day of the sale. The upper target reached, almost all investments covered. (I still need to re-order a ton of envelopes - bland ones for normal traffic and pretty ones for traffic that's dubbing as human correspondence, so that French taxation doesn't come at me with a firing squad for the two sales I make to France yearly. (French wrapping tax is 80 bucks. German is 8.) And since new pans haven't yet arrived, I need to purchase the syringes to store new paint in until they do. They upped the price of the common 20 ml syringes by 200% overnight. I'm contemplating going back to washing them after use them. I swear, if I ever hire workers, one will be tasked just with washing used pans and suchlike. I'll be one of THOSE bosses :))))

     It's almost 11 in the morning and I haven't even woken up yet. My brain has slowed almost to a halt. (Though I am three days away from my period and I really need to get myself one of those grain-filled tummy pillows you can warm up in the microwave.) Going to bed early, sleeping till almost 8, shunning doggy walks, shunning reading, even jigsaw puzzles. I play a little Warcraft, watch a little bit of Netflix. It's drizzly and gray outdoors, I am sleepy, lazy and calm. Two or three more days. I feel like my whole existence is concaving to a little pile of worn clothes on the floor. Not in a bad way. In a comfy, sleepy, restful way. At this moment, all is good and I get to be completely and utterly bored, like a lazy kitten. 

     I am certain something shitty will happen soon enough. But for now, today, until 11am, I am as brainless and emotionless as a speck of dust tumbling in warm air above the radiator, my tummy full of cashews and the dog snoring gently in the corner..