Saturday, August 20, 2005

I fought the lawn, and the lawn won..... 

I feel like such a tard. I kicked my own ass today.

For the first time in quite awhile, I awoke with a decrease in fatigue. It was only a slight difference, but I took this as an encouraging sign and decided I should celebrate by returning to some light weed pulling in the back yard since it was coming to resemble a jungle again. I hadn't been able to pull weeds since before my sister's wedding due to the extreme heat. I thought I would be all right today since the temperature was under 90 degrees. I was careful to stay out there no longer than 30 minutes, which, believe me, doesn't give you time to accomplish much.

I knew as soon as I stood up (I'd been sitting down) at the end of the half hour that I'd made a huge mistake. Along with the usual light-headedness that accompanies any time spent in the sun, the fatigue returned with the velocity of a bullet. I staggered over to the couch and watched some extreme sports in a daze. My knees were screaming in pain even though I didn't think I'd been using them that much. I decided they might feel better if I took a shower. It did help briefly with the soreness, but the heat from the shower made me even weaker, and I had to put off making lunch to lie down.

I'm trying to remember if I was this bad the first time I pulled weeds in May? I think I was. Perhaps I'll get acclimated if keep at it in small increments? I'm debating the wisdom of this theory. Can one get themselves in shape for sitting on a mat pulling dandelions out of the gravel in the yard?

Helped Dan do a follow-up letter for a job he applied for a few weeks ago. The newspaper in Sioux Falls wants a graphic artist. I can't think of a better candidate since he has both experience in a major city and in South Dakota. He got his degree in Sioux Falls, for heaven's sake. He also found another opening at an ad agency in Sioux Falls. He's gonna tweak some of his portfolio samples and then apply tomorrow. As much as I truly loathe the idea of moving, we'd be in a helluva lot better shape economically if we lived someplace with a cheap cost of living like South Dakota.

Oh, wanted to mention that Chip D. Dog has a new nickname: Cinnamon Buns! Last weekend, Dan and I went out for awhile. We were careful to put the trash can in the garage. I think it was because he couldn't get into the trash that he noticed a nearly full container of cinnamon roll sitting on the counter top. Now, Chip hasn't pulled anything off the counter since he ate the spatula and the drippings catcher from the Foreman grill about five years ago, so we figured we could trust him. But when we got home, we found the plastic wrapper from the cinnamon rolls right in front of the dog door, and just a few shreds of the carton in the yard. Not a single crumb of the rolls remained. That dog had eaten FIVE rolls! Didn't seem to have hurt him any, but it sure did tick me off.

Time to pry myself outta this chair and heat up some waffles.

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