I suck at vacation.
(Lilly took these pictures of my cracker-fu at Jenny's birthday party in the park.)
I am miserable today. I mean-- a big part of it is that I am physically unhappy; my shoulders are a single slab of cramp. My muscles are tight & knotted & I'm not in a good mood. I think it is from sleeping on two pillows, one of whom was huge; Kira thinks it is from being crouched over the computer on the counter. Either way, I'm cranky & fussy about it. I swam a little, but it wasn't helping. Besides which, I just kind of blow at relaxing. Not that I'm uptight usually? I am not a ball of stress of a type a personality. I think maybe the way I get away with that is grazing; like, doing little pieces of work here & there? I don't know, whatever, I just am stir-crazy. I should read more; & I will. Maybe later we'll watch Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, which I fully expect to be terrible. I don't know-- if my body wasn't in discomfort I might feel better. Or if I could go to the gym-- that is a factor too. Not going to the gym for a week makes me feel lazy & disgusting & dismorphic. The pool isn't quite long enough to swim laps in it, in case you were wondering, dear diary, dear Mister Henshaw. I should just take a chill pill. We are making pizza currently-- pizza. I didn't have much of a breakfast; that is probably a factor here. There are a lot of factors but at the end of the day it just turns out that I'm rotten at going on vacation. Plus, I thought p0nd was pretty dumb, which is a shame, since I was hoping for something mindless but awesome like Canabalt or minimalist & gorgeous like Small Worlds. I'm a fussbudget, is the point here.