Thursday, May 02, 2013
So, do I get work done outside or take an hour and walk? This used to be a no-brainer question. I'd get out and walk, and then eventually I was running. I always did it early on MWF.
Now, I can still do that. Then work outside. But I do miss being able to sit out on the porch when the sun in streaming in, checking my email, reading, or just daydreaming. It seems sometimes that I only feel responsible if I'm doing something I'm supposed to be doing. Maybe I just need to schedule my sloth.
Heading outside for now to work. The morning bit the big one. I had a massage scheduled at 8:50 so I'd be done and back home early. (My third one -- I'm doing one per month, since they help my back so much. I was recently diagnosed with more stenosis and arthritis, now in my upper back). So while I'm there, she finds a tick on me! I went to my husband's work, which is health-oriented, and the nurse there said, "Oh, we can't do that." I said, (because I was so irritated) "Oh, Jesus Christ!" (maybe sort of a prayer for patience), grabbed a hemostat lying there and had Hub pull it off. It was kind of behind me in the bra strap area and I couldn't reach it myself.
The head came out with it, and it looks much like a dog tick, so I think I'm fine. I'll pay attention for flu-like symptoms. But there was a nickel-sized red circle right near where the tick bit me. Not the same place. So, given the circumstances, I went by my doctor's office to take a look at it. The nurse practitioner said it probably is fungal. Oh great. Ringworm?! None of my animals are showing any symptoms, but I'll have to check to make sure. I got some anti-fungal creme at the store on my way home. I've had it before, and this isn't real itchy yet, so I'll keep an eye on it and if it gets any worse or not better in 2 weeks, I'll go back.
Geez. What a wasted day. So now I feel I really do have to go get some work done. I did pick up some good things for healthy meals at the store, so I'm being good there. I have GOT to get some of this weight off before it gets any worse. All my clothes - jeans, bras, shirts -- are too tight and I refuse to buy larger ones. I simply am not going to go there again. I'm disgusted with myself, which is exactly where I need to be.
Just a note -- when I say "disgusted," it's a good thing. It means I am sick and tired of my excuses and I'm ready to get serious. :)