A Bug Day
Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug
I'm in a bad mood. Let's get that clear up front. I'm depressed as hell. I've no doubt part of this is hormonal. But part of it isn't.
So, it was my birthday on Sunday, as you probably know. I don't make a big fuss about the whole thing, but I do like to have people wish me a happy birthday. I like getting cards, or phone calls, or text messages, or whatnot. I don't want to have servers in a restaurant all gather around and sing to me, but I like people I know to wish me a happy b-day. I have no illusions about why this is. See, I don't have a lot of happy childhood memories associated with my birthday. My most memorable birthday was when I turned 7. My mother rented out the party room at McDonalds, and I invited everyone in my class. Nobody came. I don't mean that as in only a few people showed up. I mean that as in myself, my mother, and my sisters were there, and that was it. So, yeah, nowadays I like just a simple acknowledgment. Happily, I heard from the majority of my friends on or before my birthday, so that was great. No, what I'm depressed about is work.
Now, this is kind of childish. I admit that up front, so no need to call me on it. See, at work, there is a group of people who are responsible for putting up balloons and streamers at people's desks on their birthdays. I've been with the same team for 3 birthdays now, and never once gotten my desk decorated. The first year was totally understandable, because I'd only been on the team for about 6 weeks. I mean, that's totally reasonable. Last year, however, there wasn't that excuse. And this year, while I expected that it wouldn't happen, I was still disappointed. Okay, very disappointed. To the point that I was stupid enough to whinge to my boss, Lewis. Please understand, I did this not because I wanted him to fix it, I just wanted to piss and moan a little. The reason it was stupid to say anything to him is that I'm concerned that I'm going to go in tomorrow and there's going to be decorations at my desk. That would be just pathetic. I mean, like I said, I didn't want him to fix it. (As an aside, this is the same reason I sometimes don't tell my mother what's wrong, because she thinks she can fix whatever it is. She doesn't get the point that, by the time I'm saying something, it's already a bit too late to fix).
So, yeah, work sucked because of that. And I've decided I really don't like my yoga teacher. He's very good at yoga. But I don't think he's a very good teacher. For example, when doing triangle pose, it's important to keep your legs and torso in the same plane - i.e. don't bend forward. It's meant to be a side stretch. So, he says, don't bend forward, but because he's doing all of the poses with us, he doesn't look to see if anybody is doing it wrong. A good yoga instructor will walk around class while everyone is in the pose, and offer corrections to those who are a bit off. He also doesn't offer any alternative if someone is unable to do a pose. Like, if your arms are too short for bow pose, he doesn't suggest any alternative. Maybe I've been coddled, but every yoga instructor I've had before this did those two things. After all, this is supposed to be an Intro to Yoga class. Well, correction, the title of the class is Intro to Hatha Yoga. What it actually is is a mixed meditation and yoga class.
Also, as we go through postures, I'm very clearly reminded of how unsuited I am for the class. I mean, look at me. I have no business being in that class. Fat doesn't compress that much, after all. It's not like I can twist myself up like everybody else in the class. Today was bad enough that I was working very hard at not crying during Shavasana. Though that does bring up another complaint - every other yoga class I've been in allowed at least 10 minutes for Shavansana. I mean, you have to allow time to consciously relax all the muscles in the body, and then allow time to mentally wind down. That's what Shavasana is! It's called "corpse pose" for a reason - you're supposed to imitate a corpse in both body and mind. This instructor allows 5 minutes at most.
So, days like today make me really wish I still smoked. Well, honestly, they make me wish I would contract/develop some horrible incurable malady, like brain cancer or something. I couldn't kill myself - not because I'm afraid, or I think it's a one-way ticket to Hell. No, but I do think it would weigh very heavily on my karma, because it's very selfish. I mean, it would destroy my mom. She'd blame herself. And while I find that habit of hers to be incredibly obnoxious and self-centered, because I'm aware of it I can't ignore it. Basically, it would cause hardship to too many people if I killed myself, and nobody has any business causing that many people grief. By the same token, I can't park my car on some train tracks or something, because then the train conductor would have to live with the guilt of having killed someone. That's just evil. And I may be a lot of things, but I do try not to be completely evil. So, rest assured, I'm not pondering ways to kill myself, no matter how much I think things would be better if I weren't here. Because I recognize that the only person I can guarantee things would be better for is me, and I can't trade my peace of mind for someone else's.
Well, it's late, and I have to be at the dentist tomorrow first thing. So I'm for bed. Hope you're having a better day than me.
I'm in a bad mood. Let's get that clear up front. I'm depressed as hell. I've no doubt part of this is hormonal. But part of it isn't.
So, it was my birthday on Sunday, as you probably know. I don't make a big fuss about the whole thing, but I do like to have people wish me a happy birthday. I like getting cards, or phone calls, or text messages, or whatnot. I don't want to have servers in a restaurant all gather around and sing to me, but I like people I know to wish me a happy b-day. I have no illusions about why this is. See, I don't have a lot of happy childhood memories associated with my birthday. My most memorable birthday was when I turned 7. My mother rented out the party room at McDonalds, and I invited everyone in my class. Nobody came. I don't mean that as in only a few people showed up. I mean that as in myself, my mother, and my sisters were there, and that was it. So, yeah, nowadays I like just a simple acknowledgment. Happily, I heard from the majority of my friends on or before my birthday, so that was great. No, what I'm depressed about is work.
Now, this is kind of childish. I admit that up front, so no need to call me on it. See, at work, there is a group of people who are responsible for putting up balloons and streamers at people's desks on their birthdays. I've been with the same team for 3 birthdays now, and never once gotten my desk decorated. The first year was totally understandable, because I'd only been on the team for about 6 weeks. I mean, that's totally reasonable. Last year, however, there wasn't that excuse. And this year, while I expected that it wouldn't happen, I was still disappointed. Okay, very disappointed. To the point that I was stupid enough to whinge to my boss, Lewis. Please understand, I did this not because I wanted him to fix it, I just wanted to piss and moan a little. The reason it was stupid to say anything to him is that I'm concerned that I'm going to go in tomorrow and there's going to be decorations at my desk. That would be just pathetic. I mean, like I said, I didn't want him to fix it. (As an aside, this is the same reason I sometimes don't tell my mother what's wrong, because she thinks she can fix whatever it is. She doesn't get the point that, by the time I'm saying something, it's already a bit too late to fix).
So, yeah, work sucked because of that. And I've decided I really don't like my yoga teacher. He's very good at yoga. But I don't think he's a very good teacher. For example, when doing triangle pose, it's important to keep your legs and torso in the same plane - i.e. don't bend forward. It's meant to be a side stretch. So, he says, don't bend forward, but because he's doing all of the poses with us, he doesn't look to see if anybody is doing it wrong. A good yoga instructor will walk around class while everyone is in the pose, and offer corrections to those who are a bit off. He also doesn't offer any alternative if someone is unable to do a pose. Like, if your arms are too short for bow pose, he doesn't suggest any alternative. Maybe I've been coddled, but every yoga instructor I've had before this did those two things. After all, this is supposed to be an Intro to Yoga class. Well, correction, the title of the class is Intro to Hatha Yoga. What it actually is is a mixed meditation and yoga class.
Also, as we go through postures, I'm very clearly reminded of how unsuited I am for the class. I mean, look at me. I have no business being in that class. Fat doesn't compress that much, after all. It's not like I can twist myself up like everybody else in the class. Today was bad enough that I was working very hard at not crying during Shavasana. Though that does bring up another complaint - every other yoga class I've been in allowed at least 10 minutes for Shavansana. I mean, you have to allow time to consciously relax all the muscles in the body, and then allow time to mentally wind down. That's what Shavasana is! It's called "corpse pose" for a reason - you're supposed to imitate a corpse in both body and mind. This instructor allows 5 minutes at most.
So, days like today make me really wish I still smoked. Well, honestly, they make me wish I would contract/develop some horrible incurable malady, like brain cancer or something. I couldn't kill myself - not because I'm afraid, or I think it's a one-way ticket to Hell. No, but I do think it would weigh very heavily on my karma, because it's very selfish. I mean, it would destroy my mom. She'd blame herself. And while I find that habit of hers to be incredibly obnoxious and self-centered, because I'm aware of it I can't ignore it. Basically, it would cause hardship to too many people if I killed myself, and nobody has any business causing that many people grief. By the same token, I can't park my car on some train tracks or something, because then the train conductor would have to live with the guilt of having killed someone. That's just evil. And I may be a lot of things, but I do try not to be completely evil. So, rest assured, I'm not pondering ways to kill myself, no matter how much I think things would be better if I weren't here. Because I recognize that the only person I can guarantee things would be better for is me, and I can't trade my peace of mind for someone else's.
Well, it's late, and I have to be at the dentist tomorrow first thing. So I'm for bed. Hope you're having a better day than me.