Tuesday, 1 November 2016

On the First Day...

I keep saying I’m going to write more. I’ve threatened you with notions of more blog posts, more musings from the mysterious mind of April. Just, more.

And then life kicks in and I find every excuse to avoid sitting my ass down and writing. There’s cleaning to do, books to rearrange, wine to drink, friends to visit, Netflix to watch, and a million other things to do rather than bear my soul to the blogosphere. Today, however, I’m challenging myself.

I was surfing through Twitter this afternoon whilst taking a bubble bath (or was I pooping…? I can’t remember now, either way I was in the bathroom…a bubble bath sounds more lady-like so let’s go with that), and I saw the kick in the ass I’ve been waiting for when it comes to writing. A month-long blogging challenge to post every single day in November. Thank you, BlogHer.

Now, given my not-so-regular work schedule and propensity for procrastination, this challenge may not go so well. In fact, I’m sitting here fighting the urge to watch the latest episode of This Is Us (a must-see if you are a suck like me; it pulls at every possible heart string, making you feel all the feels - perfect for a Tuesday night couch sesh - click the title to peep the trailer and try not to cry), and am being pulled into (read: actively pursuing) text convos about everything from changing my wireless provider to how a friend should overcome nervousness about sleeping with someone new for the first time (sometimes getting iMessages on your laptop is not so handy…but these are clearly crucial convos). The chances of me being able to pull off a post on the daily feels a little slim at the moment, but I’m going to give it a go.

So here we go, day one. Thank fuck the wonderful people at BlogHer are providing daily prompts, because I’m not sure what kind of content you would get otherwise (more Wayne's World gifs anyone?). I’m entirely unprepared for this little writing journey, so I plan on taking full advantage of said prompts. Today’s was a question directed towards self-care on a “bad mental health day.”

I drink a glass of wine and vent, to person or paper (whichever is most readily available).

That was easy. 

Post done? (The part of me dying to watch that episode has just realized it won’t be on my iTunes until tomorrow…so no, post not done. And I already cleaned my teeny tiny apartment with my second wind this afternoon. So pervasive is my boredom and procrastination, I actually rolled the coins from my piggybank too. Le sigh.)

I’ve spent the last six days chained to the couch with a cold that’s grown nastier and snottier by the hour. Thankfully, it relented late this afternoon and I can now breathe through my nose, hurray! Taking care of myself has been my main focus. How can I make myself feel better? What will get rid of this cold? What remedy, drug, or trick will finally work and break this constant bag-of-shit feeling?

Well, let me tell you. Having your upstairs neighbour stomp around at 4 am like he’s crushing a spider with each footstep does not cure a cold. Neither does his loud, seemingly raunchy sex. Nor does chocolate or ice cream (I was convinced on Friday night these would be the answer; despite their deliciousness I felt only a brief sugar high). Sweating it out in a scorching bubble bath drinking tea laced with bourbon (my usual go-to) only served to make me feel shittier the next morning. FaceTime-ing with my boyfriend buoyed my spirits, but sadly did nothing to clear my fucking sinuses. Exhausting my Netflix options to the point where I’m forced (not really, but once I started I couldn’t stop) to watch the vacuous Scream Queens only served to highlight my utter boredom and desire to feel better. I made a Pinterest tea recipe containing ginger, turmeric, and lemon. It seemed better suited to a colonic cleanse than clearing a sinus infection.

While none of these pursuits is directly related to my cold abating, I did realize one crucial thing. Taking care of oneself is of paramount importance. I’ve spent a few of months now with a crazy-hectic schedule. If I’m not working, I’m picking up overtime or squeezing in face time with my family and friends between trips to see my main squeeze in Calgary. I’ve been busy devouring every second with him and at the same time, soaking up as much home time as possible because soon enough the Paris of the Prairies won’t be “home” anymore. It’s exhausting, in the most wonderful of ways.

While I despise looking like Rudolph (lotion-infused tissues my ass), furiously popping cold meds, and living on soup and tea, the last six days have forced me to slow down. Well, to stop actually. I’ve been cozily bundled on my couch and come to realize how much I love my small space, and the memories it contains. My mind had an abundant number of uninterrupted minutes to chew on things as I’ve stared vacantly at the television. Long-distance relationships, no matter how incredibly frustrating and annoying, have their own kind of beauty. Change is not something I handle easily, but it is something I’m so ready for. I should likely do something with the pile of nursing texts propping up my stereo speaker, no one is going to want to deal with that box on moving day…

…I’m killing my hydrangea. Fuck.

Sometimes taking care of yourself can be as simple as spending some time with yourself. Pearls of wisdom from a recovering Advil Cold and Sinus addict…

Until tomorrow!


P.S. - A disclaimer. I cannot be held accountable for however crappy these daily posts may be. If they're brilliant and you love them, I take full responsibility and humbly thank you. (Honestly, still waiting for a universal sarcasm font...and a bacon emoji. Someone get on that please.)

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