Saturday, November 9, 2013


• If I haven’t met you, you are automatically thin. I imagine everyone thin before we’ve met face to face. 

• I’m pretty sure I saw a UFO while driving home from yoga just now.

• I folded a big pile of laundry and emptied the dishwasher. Up until 4:30, that was the sum total of my Saturday accomplishments. Then I did two back to back yoga classes and suddenly it didn’t matter that this day was an antisocial bust. Now it feels more like I spent the day successfully solving AIDS.

• My total yoga challenge days now: 132. I have done 132 Bikram yoga classes in 132 days. My goal was 125. I met it. And I just didn’t stop. My body is desperate for a break, but I’ve been having a hard time figuring out how to give it one.

• The only sounds in my house are these keys tapping and the clock in my bathroom ticking.

• I just sent an email to my tax guy that ended with, "I swear I'm very bright in areas outside taxes." Aside from the fact that taxes are numbers and my brain plum shuts off when confronted with those thingers, I've got this mental block regarding taxes. I'm so pissed about having to pay them that I think my brain refuses to retain any information about how it all works. I'm 31 years old and the only thing I understand about taxes is that I hate paying them and I'm thrilled that Nevada doesn't have state income tax.

• I struggle with kale. I had some chipotle nacho cheese-flavored kale chips the other day, and once I was halfway through the bag I read that they were vegan. Huh? Vegan cheese? That stuff ain’t right. I read the back and saw nutritional yeast among the ingredients, and I couldn’t keep going. I could tough it through the kale, but nutritional yeast is a bridge too far.  

• Jim made a temporary dog door for Soph. It slips in between the sliding glass doors next to his dogs' larger dog door. Their door is too heavy for Soph to push open, so Jim made a removable one using a cat door so that my animal can come and go as she pleases when we’re at his pad.

• I have an essay that I wrote and fine tuned during my MFA studies that’s memorable and has received a lot of praise from teachers and students and such. As of today, this essay has been rejected from no less than 10 journals. 

• My knees are junk. Especially the left one.

• I am happy I don’t drink beer.

• I am happy I don’t have a baby.

• I have no get-up-and-go right now. My beloved to-do list is going wholly undone because I got no umph.

• Lately, my AM head sounds like this—“Ugh. Morning. Alarm. Dog wants to get up. No. Snooze button one more time. Just one more. Wait! No! I can get up! There are gingerbread bagels and lemon curd downstairs. On it.”

I went to a power yoga class this week. I have missed that yoga. I have missed the variation, the arm balances, the sanskrit, and down dog. Whenever I rolled over my toes from up dog to down and settled into that inverted V, I sighed a little and thought, “Hi, friend.” I left class feeling strong and hopeful.

My down dog butt as captured by Ashley Thalman.
• It makes me shake my head a little seeing how jazzed some stay-at-home mom’s can get about church clothes. I know more than just a handful of 'em who love getting gussied up for church. They’re usually in jeans or leggings during the weekdays and church gives them a chance to get fancy. I, on the other hand, get super bummed when I turn to my closet on Sunday morning. It’s all just work clothes to me.

• Jim says leggins’ instead of leggings.

I’m uninspired right now. Usually I can figure out how to at least sort of write. I take a lot of notes. And I was starting to feel like I could do a little typography work again. But at this moment right now anything to do with words seems, like, ugh. (As is evidenced by my eloquence.)


Sue said...

Your uninspired writing is like mine on a good day.

Megan said...

Har har. Thanks, ma.

Audrey said...

Go for that eleventh rejection immediately. It might turn out that someone has their brain screwed in straight, will recognize your genius, and publish you before the year is out.

Leslie said...

Lay off the kale and nutritional yeast. Completely uninspiring. Stick with the gingerbread bagels and lemon curd...

Holly Anderson said...

Meg. Your essay: The world isn't ready for you yet. Van Gogh and Dickinson come to mind. Hang in there, kiddo. Someday you'll be vindicated.

(I am dying to read it.)