Catching Up

Okay, okay. I've been lax. I've been lazy.

I have pictures to post from our trip to Virginia at the beginning of the month, including some lovely shots of the fall foliage snapped along the highway in West Virginia on our way back to Illinois--I'll be doing that sometime in the coming week.

For now, rest assured that Jeff and I are fine, although I am having a whole series of "baggage" dreams--that has to be what they are about, because in them I've been saddled with all kinds of weird stuff to carry around, most notably a small but very squirmy and strong porpoise wrapped in a blanket (I carried this around the dream tucked under my left arm) and a normal sized cello in an enormous double-bass hard-shell case (this was my responsibility throughout a camping trip that shifted venues from the backwoods to a city sidewalk to a stripmall parking lot).

Now, I KNOW I carry around my share of baggage... after all, few folks get to my age without acquiring at least a carry-on or two. I just wish I knew what baggage, specifically, my subconscious is telling me to jettison. I'd like to jettison some averdupois... Perhaps another round of therapy is in order? Or maybe Weight Watchers? Heh.

Stay tuned for the pretty pictures!

A Shot in the Arm

Literally, and figuratively.

The other day when I was a the doctor's office for a routine blood pressure check (which, surprisingly, was just fine), my internist offered me a flu shot. Now, I've been getting an annual flu shot since 1993, when I knew I was going to fly to my parents' house for Christmas. I had been having asthmatic symptoms, and I worried I might pick something up on the flight. I guess I should knock on wood or something after I type this, but I haven't gotten a full-fledged, honest-to-goodness case of influenza since I started getting the annual shots. So... I mean, I had already made the co-payment. Might as well get my $15 worth, huh?

Well, damn! Flu shots, I've found, are pretty tame as far as administration is concerned. Sure, there's a bit of a sting, but it's not the "this is going to hurt so bad that I'm going to need a lollipop to shut me up afterwards" searing bee-type sting. And this one was no exception... but later... oh, later. It was like someone had slugged me in the shoulder with a baseball bat. It wasn't just my upper arm. The throbbing ache spread throughout my upper back and up my neck. I don't think I've ever had such an intense reaction to an inoculation. It took a couple of days to abate.

I'm not saying you shouldn't get the shot this year, 'cause who knows how it's going to affect you, and avoiding the flu is a good thing. But shoot--I might just take some kind of painkiller before I subject myself to another shot!

Now, for the figurative.

I really need something to motivate me. Maybe it's not a shot in the arm. Maybe it's a kick in the ass. I don't know. The boxes with the pieces of the new bookshelves for the office/guest-room/once-was-Shelly's-hangout have been here for a couple of months, and they are still propped in the hallway, just inside our door. I've been foregoing my usual salad in the lunchroom at work for the heavy "comfort food" fare they always serve. It's never all that good--truth to tell, the salad bar is a much tastier choice all around--but it's almost as if it's too much of an effort to assemble my own healthful meal. I've worked out maybe once in the last three weeks--and it's prime time for running along the lakefront! Crisp temperature, soft lake breeze... but I can't get my lazy butt in gear and my shoes on. And man, I'm starting to feel the effects of crappy food choices and lazing around. And don't, whatever you do, ask me about the novel. I think about the little preface. I do. I have about four or five docs started with different options. Operative word: started.

So... I need a shot in the arm, a kick in the ass, a knock upside the head.

Maybe I need to start making obsessive lists again...