Paper Christmas tree from Bonnie. I took this when it arrived. Now the mirror is covered with cards. The only indicators that there might be a holiday happening. My decorations are in the attic covered with 20 years of dust.
I've felt pretty good since I've been out of the hospital. I went to my yoga class on Friday. I vacuumed. Cleaned a bathroom and did laundry twice. I went grocery shopping, twice. I planned to go back to Moving With Milly. And finally, get my ass walking again. I don't even have Christmas stress. It's just another Tuesday in this house. Everything seemed right with the world. My follow up appointment is Tuesday morning.
I have a lot of work to do over break. I made this list about three weeks ago. The BC's are done for Angel. As are the bookmarks. The typo has been fixed. That leaves four major projects to be done during Winter Break. Then I need to prep my classes. The Graphics 2 and History classes have been replaced by one Type course.
None of these projects are a lot of work. I did the "dentist" Saturday, and "Otto" yesterday. I felt no stress. They are drafts after all. I actually felt like I accomplished something. The plan was to do middle school today. That potential history book? It arrived this morning which I find quite remarkable since the author is a Christian minister. You'd think this would be the busy season for that profession.
Last night -- it was after seven -- as I was making the PDF of "Otto" my email dinged. I thought who the hell is sending me emails Christmas Eve? I looked. A project that I was involved in 2-years ago has come back to haunt me. I thought I was just cleaning up the file, but it came with a long list of suggestions and questions. Plus this dreaded sentence: "I am still editing the stories one last time but I wanted to get this to you." I replied, let me know when you are done. I'm not doing it twice. I may hear from her in June. Bottom line, this project is so far down on the to-do list it might fall off. I was pissed. Not stressed.
I watched some mindless television and went to bed. Had no trouble getting up the stairs. Crawled into bed and the afib started. Why? My sister in law says it's tricky to figure out the triggers. I ended up having to take 100 deep breaths to fall asleep. And count backwards from 100 twice. I know I don't want the hospital again. I know I don't want more freaking drugs. But I will spend part of the evening moving my work into Dropbox just in case. I also need to cast off this impending doom feeling I have. I usually get this way at the end of the year, but this year it's magnified 100 fold.
However, I was optimistic and signed up for three AARP classes this morning. The one originates out of Alaska. One out of Alabama. Both had stretching and mindfulness in their titles. And I'll go to yoga Friday.
Baby steps. Will I slay this dragon?
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