That's what's in my head this early morning. As my friend, Michelle would say, an earworm. And well worth watching again - if for no other reason than seeing both John Malkovich and Hugh Laurie in period costume. Not sure why it's in my head - no former lovers in my picture . . . maybe it's my feet . . .
Some days they are feeling so much better, and then, out of nowhere, they hurt. I just keep going along, but having my time this regimented - and little time for anything else or even myself is taking its toll. The therapist relented and said I could ride my bike . . . but other than on the weekends, there is little time to do so.
PT three nights a week and the gym once - that leaves me one evening free, and I'm feeling a little fractured. Work continues at break-neck pace, and when I leave there, there does not seem to be much time left over for anything other than heading directly to PT, and by the times that's done, I have about an hour to see to anything else I might have wanted to see to. It's not enough. No time - no time to cook, poor food choices, take out daily in some form, not sleeping well, and not enough time or energy to work out . . . this is a recipe for disaster . . . and not in the making, already in process.
There are times in one's life where the effects of everything that is going on become visible - the last time this happened to me was when I got divorced, moved across the country, changed jobs, bought a house and my mom died. I can remember looking in the mirror at myself and wondering if I was ever going to look OK again - huge black circles from lack of sleep and the pain of loss clearly marked on my face.
I looked in the mirror yesterday, and I have aged appreciably in the last month. I guess all this foot nonsense and its concomitant parts have taken their toll. In truth - I have been dealing with this for about a year - the fact that it's only now showing in my face is pretty amazing.
Up so very early this morning because I woke up before 4 and just could not go back to sleep, and am in my workout clothes, but not actually going to make it down to the basement to work out - The stretching and exercises and icing . . . they take at least a half an hour every morning (and evening) and the car needs to go in for a checkup and maintenance today. Early.
Whiner . . .
This will pass and I continue on my path - but the graphic reminder now visible on my face that time is passing and parts of my body are not working as they should is a little sad. I can see why so many in Hollywood succumb to the plastic surgeon - one day you look like you've always looked, and the next - you look so very different. The allure of the knife and promise of what our culture prizes so much - youth - are strong pulls.
But this is my face and my body. I worked hard to have both, and I have no interest in looking like someone else - or a cartoon of myself. And really, it's quite likely after a few good nights of sound sleep that I will look and feel fine. And so I continue with good sunscreen and a hat. But it would be nice to walk without pain, and sleep through the night without a foot or leg cramp waking me up, and have enough time to fit everything in.
Speaking of which . . . I had better get cracking or I will not get to the dealership with the car in time to get back home and get on the train.