Life is poop … but in a good way

I’m having to commute this week.  I know, it’s horrible.  I need to be connected to 2 of Nortel’s networks on the same box at the same time so I need to actually go so at least one of them is directly connected via a wire.  The other can be a ‘virtual’ network.  I won’t bore you with the technical details, but suffice it to say I have to go and sit in my cube and work.  So I commuted.

You ever realize that whatever you’re doing right now reminds you of all the other times you did what you’re doing right now before?  Like when I’m travelling and I get on a plane… it seems like I’m always boarding a plane and sitting down.  When I’m commuting all the time between this commute and the last commute compresses and the feeling of eternally commuting envelops me.  I almost typed ‘envelopes me’.  But yeah, the feeling of eternally commuting envelops me.. that’s about how it is.  That’s pretty cool.  Maybe it’s just me.

Teresa forwarded me the e-mail she sent to her friends about her trauma in the YMCA.  Here’s the good part:

p.s.s.s  So you wanna know what I did to myself??  As I was struggling through my last 2 arm curls something happened…. something exploded in my head.  Just like that.  I had to sit for a good minute to try and recover… deep breath, PAIN, panting, PAIN, deep breath, HEAD THROBBING I’M DYING I’M BLIND PAIN!!!  When I could move again I went out to lay on a couch but my head would not stop hurting.  Got an ice pack and lay on the floor in an empty room while some woman did Reiki on me so that I could calm down and stop crying.  Head was POUNDING and by then I was tense all over and shaking… kinda like being in shock.  They went to get Art (who had 5 kids in the pool) and he massaged my neck.  They brought me a larger ice bag and I laid on it on the floor of the Y for about an hour.  The head throbbing finally went away and I now feel similar to when I had whiplash but the pain is up higher.  I guess I strained too hard ??!! along with not breathing properly…. who knows.  No one there did that’s for sure.

She’s right… nobody there knew what could have happened.  I’m talking with my trained physical therapist co-worker today and I mentioned it just cuz we were chatting and he described it pretty close to above.  It seems that when you’re straining to exercise and you hold your breath your blood pressure sky-rockets… then when you pop a muscle, it bleeds more.  The blood pressure or pressure from the blood (heh) presses a nerve or something and suddenly Teresa’s a textbook case of why they always say ‘breathe!’ when you work out.

By the way, the ‘hour’ was me going and telling the kids ‘let’s go’ and waiting for Tyler to shower and get dressed.. the slowpoke.

I found a new way to diet.  Give yourself about 3 minutes and 48 seconds to eat.  I’ve already established I commuted today… I get home about 6:17ish (and hear Teresa say ‘get your suits and towels in your backpacks!), and we have to be at the YMCA at 6:30 for the boys’ swimming lessons.  I eat at the speed of sound (and hear Teresa again say ‘get your suits and towels in your backpacks!), and put my dish in the sink.  I get my bag (and hear Teresa again say ‘get your suits and towels in your backpacks! and is greeted with ‘they ARE!’) and we all pile into the van and head off.  The plan is I exercise while Teresa does her e-mail waiting on the boys, but Teresa remembers an appointment with a new trainer (one that knows the head asploding machines aren’t for short people), so I go down with the boys.

Tyler changes, runs out and joins his class.

I watch… but no Cameron.

Cameron?  I think.  I walk into the family changing area.  "Cameron?" I ask.

"Number 3," I hear.  I knock on number 3.


"I don’t have a bathing suit," he sobs.

Since we were already late, and class is only 45 minutes long… and even tho it only takes about 10 minutes to get home by the time I go up, tell Teresa, get out to the van, start to drive it’s almost 7:00pm.  We’d only make it back in time to pick everyone up… so we go back, and Cameron watches his class.

Tyler gets done and stands next to me shivering.  "Go shower." I say, thinking maybe I need to remind him of the next step.

"I’m cold,"  he says.

"Go shower." I say again.  Not because I expect that he didn’t hear the first one, but just to remind him in case he forgot since the last time I said it.

"No towel," he says.

I almost forgot the poop!

We make it home and there’s a trailer full of dirt and horse poop that we need to shovel into a garden box I made for Teresa.  I shovel and shovel, and shovel.. and fill the box.  I figure ‘that’s pretty loose, I’ll shovel some more’ so I do, and make a mound on top so hopefully it’ll settle flat.    There’s a good bit of dirt and poop left in the trailer so I think, ‘that’s enough for someone else’s garden box.’  I wipe my brow, satisfied at a good evening’s poop shovelling (and glad that I actually didn’t work out), and walk inside.

"Is the trailer empty?" Teresa asks.  "Because they need it tomorrow."

Took four of’em (’em meaning ‘wives’) to fill it up and I’m supposed to squeeze in ’emptying’ between swim lessons and night-time.

Oh well… that’s my job.  I did it.  The trailer is empty, and life is good.

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