indoor fireworks

That last post was a wee bit self-pitying, so I decided to post some fireworks instead. Because, as everyone knows, fireworks are the best way to end a pity party.

Happy (belated) Canada Day and Independence Day to my Canadian and American readers!

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be. — “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” by Stephen Chbosky

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A haiku about my lunch

Image via Flickr.

Here’s to my delicious lunch. The Hubs and I (though, really, it was just the Hubs; I was feeling terrible yesterday. It was such a Bad Day that I relented finally and took some of the Percocet my NP prescribed me.) made a delicious meal; we got some turkey — which we had never made before — and made sweet potato and butternut squash mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, fresh bread and cranberry sauce. Yum.

Turkey. Cranberry.
Sweet potato. Delicious.
Thanksgiving in June.

the bends

I’ve started doing yoga recently.

I am not very good at it.

I’m not flexible (the forward bends Rodney Yee expects me to do are just out of my league, at the moment) and apparently I don’t have much balance either.

Even so, I adore yoga. I wish I had time to do his “A.M. Yoga” before I went to work and some more intense yoga in the evening, as a workout. But I don’t. So, for now, I’m alternating them; or, if I have a particularly stressful day ahead of me, I’ll go with “A.M. Yoga” because I am super relaxed afterward.

Still, relaxing and being fit (read: toning up/losing weight) aren’t the only reasons I’m doing this; like nearly everything else, it seems, I’m hoping yoga will help me get a handle on my PSA. Since I’m about ready to add Enbrel to the long list of biologics that started and then stopped working for me (see: Humira [twice], Remicade, Orencia, Enbrel [twice]), I’m desperate to find something, anything that will help.

If I keep up with it — yoga, that is — it should help; it will make my muscles stronger, taking tension off of sore and inflamed joints. But most of all, I’m hoping that sense of calm and strength will power me through the days when I’m feeling helpless, when nothing seems like it’s working, when the pain makes me snappy and quick-tempered. And that hope keeps me going, propels me out of bed on days where I’m so tired I just want to fall back into bed, crawl under the sheets and sleep for a hundred years.

(Picture via WeHeartIt.)