I've started keeping a dream journal because though I often recall my dreams in the morning, my memory isn't as sharp and clear as it once was (I blame the margaritas), and I'm hoping that writing them down as soon as I get up will help me. Of course, I don't have any form of discipline, so I never take the time in the middle of the night to record what I was just dreaming, and I usually forget to write until close to an hour after I have risen, so some of my descriptions are as muddled as my brain. One that I wrote this morning simply states, " Something about me, my mother, and a park." Fascinating, n'est-ce pas?
Being the book addict I am, I have been taking far too much advantage of the low, low prices on Amazon, buying used books for $1.92 and whatnot. This morning I started Eat, Pray, Love, a book I have heard much about, and though I am only 26 pages in, I can already tell I will love it immensely. As of late, I have been enthralled with Bill Bryson and have read nearly everything he has written. If you haven't read some of his works, I suggest you march right out, or even better, right to your computer, and purchase some of his books. They make me laugh out loud.
Last Sunday, Hubby and I went out with my best friend, JN, and his boyfriend, GC, for brunch and strolling. We came across a stoop sale (the equivalent of a garage sale in places where houses and yards and driveways actually exist) and I ended up buying the aforementioned journal, a beautiful piece that looks like leather but isn't, with a magnetic flap that keeps the whole thing closed and a red ribbon to mark your spot. I also bought an old globe (I'm not sure how old but it still says Burma and Zaire, not Myanmar and Democratic Republic of the Congo), a ceramic cat head that functions as an ashtray (this is going to be a birthday present for JN), and a lovely bag made out of fabric that looks like it should be hanging from the walls in Versailles. (The bag didn't come from the stoop sale; it was bought from a woman selling them on 6th avenue.) We ended up spending something like $100 that day, which is ridiculous but also makes me feel socially responsible for putting money back into the economy. (This is what I tell myself when my buyer's remorse starts kicking in, which it always, unfailingly, does.)
Ever since my husband came into my life I have become a slacker. I don't blame him for this, but I do, however, blame our relationship. For months and months we were 7000 miles apart, in different hemispheres, and with a 6 to 7 hour time difference between us, depending on the time of year. The moment I would wake up, I would call him at his office. The moment I would get to work, I would chat to him on IM. Just before going to sleep for the night, I would call him as he was getting up for the day. This constant scheduling to have as much contact through the day as possible left me with little-to-no desire to do anything else. And ever since he finally came to the States in January, we have obviously been relishing our time together. But no more, my friends. This time together has seen my ass gain 13 pounds (primarily due to the unnaturally high consumption rate of Ben and Jerry's) and my previous dedication to volunteer diminish to nothing. So, I've reclaimed my life and, hopefully, my body, and am going to get back on track. Volunteering is scheduled, a spinning class has been completed, as has my first yoga class in an embarrassingly long time. It feels good to be back.
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