Friday, July 31, 2015

Stinky Attitude

Magical sunrise that I tried to ignore.
I really, really, really, really, really, did not want to ride my bike this morning.  There is something about me that I've come to realize over the years.  Well, there are a lot of things - some of which are not fit to print - but one thing is that the harder I resist doing something, the more I probably need to do it.

I'm mad, you see.  Mad at cycling. Mad at helmets and traffic and bike paths and clip in pedals.

I'm oftentimes angry.  I guess it's a "thing" with me.  I get riled up about something and I just get madder and madder.  It starts with something like my kid getting hit on his bike and it blows up into the whole world hating cyclists.  I get more and more worked up and isolate so that nobody knows what a big baby I am being.  Before you know it, I'm back to some very unhealthy behaviors and things are falling apart.  Not that you'd ever know.  I'm also a very good stuffer.  But that is for another post.

Let's get off this morning for a bit, though and back track to last night.  I did get out in the garage and shape things up a little bit.  Our 8-year-old helped me sweep and we have a couple of carpet remnants that we vacuumed.  Cleared of the workbench, hooked an oscillating fan up out there and voila!  Nice space to sweat!

We had the radio going while we were working and the kids had a good time.  Well, the two little ones did.  The 13-year-old was glued to Instagram and the 17-year-old was glued to his girlfriend.  *sigh*

Cameron Schwartzenegger
Our 8-year-old, Susan, is an aspiring gymnast - so I was entertained by forward rolls, back bends, and "almost a cartwheel".  We rigged up a balance beam for her to practice on and it was a lot of fun.  We danced around until after 9:00pm when Mom realized that it was waaaay time to go in and go to bed.

I know, it looks dangerous.
My husband went and returned the vacuum cleaner to my Mom's place.  Unfortunately ours died (it was only 12 years old, gosh!) so we've been borrowing hers.  My attitude was really, really, really, really, stinky so I sat in the garage and pouted while he went by himself.  That made me feel even more guilty, so yeah - the circle of crap continues.

Anywhooty.

Wanna see a picture of a belligerent 39-year-old spoiled brat that didn't want to do anything good for her this morning?

We hates this.
It's not like I had to force myself to get out of bed this morning, so I don't know what the big deal was.  I'm awake by 5:30 most of the time by default (dang, I'm OLD). I get so mad that I don't want to feel better - and I knew that the morning air and the sunrise would make me feel better.

What.

Do you get like that?  So wallowing in the self pity party that you refuse to feel better?  Psycho, much Andrea!?  So, I refused to see the beautiful sunrise behind the clouds until it was almost out of sight.  I refused to smile and be nice to people on the trail - thought I begrudgingly did holler "on your left" to the pedestrians (damn peds, I bet if THEY get hit by a car people will care).  See!?  What a brat I am!

After I turned around at the halfway point - of a route that I deliberately picked because I HATE IT - it happened.

I was smiling and breathing and pedaling and enjoying the sun on my face.  I was smiling at people and watching birds and LIKING IT.

Oh, Lord, you are a sneaky one.  Yes indeed.  You love me even when I am being the stinkiest, stink pot in Stinker Town.  Good thing.  Good, good thing.

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