And I Think to Myself, What a Wonderful World...

Or day eighteen.

As I write this I am dining on the last of my vegan burritos wrapped in whole wheat tortilla shells and crunching away on my giant salad, which includes beets, carrots, celery, black beans, salad mix, soy mozzarella and goddess dressing. Yum. See, left to my own devices, I am a pretty healthy eater.

Spent most of the day sunning by the pool (I know its bad), watching the giant cumulonimbus clouds tower into storm heads and back up over the course of the afternoon, while taking dips into the pool and reading Pox Americana*. Later on I browsed Barnes and Nobels wildlife and cooking sections, and waxed nostalgic over A Sand Country Almanac by Aldo Leopold (reminds me of my Prescott College Orientation and grandpa) and tried to convince El Mejor Pistolero to retire with me to somewhere in the South Pacific to run a Bed and Breakfast/SCUBA tour operation specializing in Coconut Pecan Pie**. In other words, bliss.

YogaX, however... you know, its challenging and all, but its also sort of boring. Much more strenuous then my regular classes but lacks utterly the poetry some of my favorite teachers brought to the practice. Which I think is fair: one of the things I enjoyed was the spiritual element, whereas with this its primarily a workout. A good work out, but just that.

Also, I lied. I skipped the abs part because I was exhausted, and because --for the second day!!!--- my leg didn't hurt. I'm going to give it a few more days to heal.

I've also been really tired lately, I think I'm just fatigued from the program and my bizarro sleep schedule hasn't helped. Though I've been waking up at a healthy seven (at least the first time), I've had a hard time getting to sleep most nights. Last night I woke up from a jarring dream at 3 am, watched Maxed Out on Netflix, which was a bad idea given my precarious financial situation (still unresolved) and also because it just wasn't that good, then finally fell asleep to another jarring dream. This one was about a molar shattering and me having to remove it with my fingers, and there was all this plastic and metal stuff attached to it like that scene in The Ring. My roommate tells me that tooth dreams are about financial anxiety, which seems about right.

*About the smallpox plagues that shaped American History.
**I think its working.