April 15, 2009

Wednesday’s Child, Full of Crap

I don’t really know what Wednesday’s Child is full of. Tuesday’s must be full of estrogen, or something like it, because I was a mess yesterday, and for no real reason. Just blue. And tired to the bone. I hate when that happens. And try as I might, I couldn’t turn it around. I went for a run. But my runner’s high turned to tears everytime an emotional song came on my Ipod. Unbelievable! I took daughter Katie to the mall for her birthday. I bought myself three sun dresses. And they looked good on me, too. Now that usually makes me giddy. But nope, I was moping, still. Not deliberately. I put on my best happy songs on the ride home and couldn’t even work up the energy to belt out the lyrics like I normally do. While dancing. While driving. Despite all my efforts, I was still bumming. And achy all over, and weepy, and my head felt foggy all day, like I had a hangover or hadn’t slept in 48 hours or something. I still don’t know what hit me.

So I came home, and lo and behold, my laptop was dead.

DEAD.

And it was after hours, so I couldn’t take it anywhere. I had planned to fill out all the art information paperwork for the next three books last night, as the publisher needs them today. It’s urgent they have them today, in fact.

Worst part was, I knew I’d drawn the crisis right in by getting so out of alignment. So I spent some time relaxing and playing with the dogs and I ate a steak. Porterhouse. Yum. Then I tried to chill out, and managed to get pretty mellow, watching reruns of Two and a Half Men and House, and telling myself “It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine” until I couldn’t stay awake any longer, then went to sleep with the intention of feeling like myself again by morning.

And I did. Still achy, though. I have run fifteen miles so far this week, after barely running all winter, so I imagine my body needs a day off. That might be part of it. So I didn’t run today even though it’s gorgeous out and I’m dying to.
I phoned Apple, and learned my warranty has expired. Then I drove to the Apple Store at Carousel Center, and they had no appointments available until 6 PM. Aieeeeee! But they put me on standby.

I sat down to wait, but I knew I wouldn’t wait long. I was myself again. I was positive again. I was aligned again. I wasn’t wallowing in muck and attracting more muck anymore. I was right back where I’d been before that icky Tuesday. On top of the world, though puzzled about my down day.

Sure enough, barely had I sat down, when the sweet Apple girl waved me inside, and a smart Apple guy went to work on my Macbook. It was nothing but a faulty power cord. I bought a new one and went home. The trip took two hours, but I was only inside the mall ten minutes. And that’s a record for me. I was dying to visit Vicky and her Secrets, and maybe drop by Finish Line. But no, I had things to do.

I raced home, plugged my baby in, and sighed in relief when she powered right up. Then I spent the next several hours on the Art Fact Sheets. And now they are done and have been emailed to where they need to be, and all is well with the world.

Well, not all. My guy’s still away. ::pout:: (Wait, let’s not start that again.) But he’ll be back soon now. I’m building a little fantasy in my head where he shows up tonight, late, and surprises me. Tomorrow night is a more realistic expectation, though. Still, you never know. Anything could happen.

The Tuesday blahs and their repercussions reminded me though, that the more aligned you get, the faster your energy stream is moving. So when you get out of whack and hit a tree, you hit it hard and you hit it fast. One day of awfulness (and okay, it was pretty intense awfulness, but still….) and I manifested a crisis.

The flip side though, is that the more consistently aligned you are, the more easily you can correct any misalignments. And the second you do so, life snaps back into place for you. So I got realigned, and my “crisis” turned into a minor inconvenience that was easily corrected. No lines, no waiting.

Check out Sting, singing my song for the day. (Below)

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