The universe doesn’t want me to exercise. I swear it’s a plot.
So I was planning on going back to rehab last Friday. That was the day that the furnace started acting wonky, my car wouldn’t start, and Zoe got sick. The furnace, according to my guy, just had a brain fart. The car started again. Zoe felt better by Saturday night. So I went to rehab on Monday. I kept it fairly light since I’m starting over yet again. I visited the folks, I didn’t go shopping. All was going as planned.
I got up Tuesday barely able to walk. It felt as if something was out of place. I spent the day not getting anything done and eventually, my hip popped and my back started feeling better. But, since I had to drive to Springfield on Thursday, I didn’t go to rehab on Wednesday, using the day to let the back spasms finish winding down.
I drove to Springfield on Thursday, fasting and without coffee. Just to find out that my appointment was actually on Wednesday. *insert sad little head shake here* I knew that my appointment was the 6th. I would have sworn that Thursday was the 6th. I also knew that Monday was the 4th. I probably saw the date on Wednesday dozens of times over the course of the day. And yet, I was certain that Thursday was the 6th. My nice endo’s office got me in with a PA so at least I got my bloodwork and basic check-up done. My A1c, by the way, is holding steady which is pretty good news considering how much I was over-eating during the holidays.
Anyway, drove to Springfield, drove around doing various different things. It was raining like hell by the time I got out of the endo’s office so I didn’t stop to do my shopping up there. I did stop at my local store to pick up something for dinner since it was late and I didn’t want to cook. You know, it’s rather a pity that our only fast food shop went out of business this summer. But the point is, I drove 150 miles or so and less than half a mile from the house, the car stalled out while I was driving 45 miles per hour.
So Friday, after I got a car appointment for Monday, I stayed home. It’s possible that the car will not stall again but I’d rather get it to the shop on Monday and not risk a bigger problem. No rehab Friday. I did do a little work around the house. I’m still working on cleaning out stuff. Mountains of stuff. I have more mountains of stuff I want to sort through today and I’m having back spasms again. I will get at least some of my sorting that I planned for today. Not lift the heavy stuff maybe but I can sit there and sort files. Sheesh.
Did you notice that I didn’t write anything about explosions or gunshots or fires or earthquakes? None of this stuff was a major catastrophe. Just a sequence of minor events. Minor events that are keeping me away from rehab. And to some extent, away from the projects I have to do around here. And chances are that since I will be dealing with the car on Monday, I won’t make rehab then, either. I plan to try to get Dad’s car started this weekend. I am charging my car charger even as I write. If I can get it started, at least I can get the window up – and then perhaps I can get it to the shop because it’s been sitting there for over 7 months and is likely to have issues with the battery and alternator at the least. Should probably get some of that dry-gas stuff, too. If I can get it running, at least I will have a back up car at hand. That’s planning for the future!
I am trying to take this week with a sense of humor. After all, my friend Pug had his bowling ball eaten by the ball return and broken into dust this week. It may just be one of those crazy weeks.