stay stay stay

Morning, chickadees!

Here we are, again.

After almost three weeks of running around, I’m about to get back to a routine.

This should be interesting.

Yesterday ended up being less about unpacking and more about beach visiting with my mom, which was just fine by me.

Random boxes, I’ll get to you on a day that doesn’t offer me this alternative.

The water was freezing, so I mostly sunbathed (read: burned, because I don’t remember that I’m both blond and blue-eyed), but it was a lovely way to spend a free afternoon.

After a quick treat at DQ, I headed home, used all 26 million of my keys to get into my condo (I’m gonna need to figure this out soon, chickens), and tried to shower all the sand off of me.

I was highly unsuccessful.

Next up was a return to yoga.

Hot yoga, because why ease into anything?

Struggling to find the right key on my chain to lock my door made me miss my bus, which meant a long trek to the studio, since my move has put me off a finicky bus line.

I was maybe tired already from the walk by the time class started.

One hour and fifteen minutes later, I remembered what tired actually felt like.

You guys, my limbs are essentially jelly this morning.

I’m never skipping class for that long again. By the time I hit the mat and closed my eyes, I was a sweaty, slippery, uncoordinated mess.

I’ll try again when the room’s not heated to 100 degrees.

I’m not even sure it will help.

And with that, I’m off to try my new commute and to remember what a day in my cubicle feels like- enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, chickens!

 

i just want you to know who i am

Good morning chickadees!

And welcome to the beginning of another full week.

I’m not complaining: after a weekend of visiting with family, celebrating birthdays, doing yoga, playing soccer, and putting more of my apt in boxes, I’m feeling rested and accomplished.

I’ve also seen the forecast for this week, and it looks beautiful.

We’re moving in the right direction.

Also amazing this weekend:

The Farmers’ Market has re-opened, which essentially gives me a reason to live.

Or at least a reason to stop eating so many frozen vegetables.

Since it’s only mid-May, the offerings were limited to flowers, asparagus, cheese, and eggs, but man, I’m not complaining one bit about that.

 

I ended up with two big bundles of asparagus, a dozen eggs, and some bison jerky, up-sold to me by the delightful farmer who always manages to make me spend more money than I was anticipating.

I’m a sucker for a man who teaches the population about the importance of locally sourced meats, chickadees.

And yes, I know that sounds a little bizarre.

And with that, I’m off to start a new week with a new book (it seems I’m loving teen novels only, these days)- this is gonna be the kind of Monday that’s fully bearable, chicks.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.

hold me up/wrap me up

Morning, chickadees.

And sorry for soaring right past Monday.

Yesterday was one of those days that I just couldn’t get into.

The fact that it was Monday meant it was already working against me.

Added to it, I was having one of Those Days.

You guys, I don’t know if I talk about my RA too much or too little.

Sometimes I’d rather not bring it up, and sometimes I want to talk about it for an excruciatingly long time, because I think maybe I can just talk it right out of me.

Or make it a joke: check out Nikki, stumbling around like an old person. Just give me a second, I’ll catch up.

It’s manageable, I tell everyone.

And it is. I can still go to yoga and play soccer and lift Tobin and tell jokes and laugh until my sides hurt.

Those are my current priorities.

But sometimes, after a lot of annoying small things (never, chickens, is it just one thing), I get frustrated.

I’ve never been patient, chicks.

RA teaches me I don’t always have a choice.

Sometimes after not being able to wear the shoes I want because my ankles won’t cooperate (you never liked those boots anyway, I lie to myself), or struggling to open a container (and chuckling just a little bit because it’s a prescription pain medication I’m trying to get at) or just moving slow in the morning trying to get dressed, I have one of Those Days, where I decide to feel sorry for myself because I can’t do exactly what I used to be able to do.

And I don’t always feel like sharing that with the world, chickadees, because here’s the thing:

I’m really lucky. I have a husband who can open anything I can’t (I loosened it for you, you know), friends who listen to me babble on about all of my harebrained schemes to cure myself (and hand me Vitamin Shoppe coupons so it doesn’t cost me too much) while I find the right medication, a mom who makes me anything I want gluten free, and joints that still manage to take me where I need to go, even though my immune system insists on attacking them for no real reason.

And so I go to yoga, and I tell someone (all of you) that I’m mad, and I remember all of the above.

And I feel much better about the whole thing.

So today’s not gonna be one of Those Days, chickadees.

In yoga last night, I set an intention to be positive, and so despite the fact that I was sweating so much at the time that I could be counted as delirious, I’m sticking with it.

Enjoy this one, chickens. It’s a beautiful day out there.

 

 

 

telling the story

Morning chickens.

Despite the fact that the weather has cooled off and it looks like rain out there, it’s a Friday, and that’s the story I’m sticking to this morning.

It’s the right story to tell.

Yesterday I was busy running late for an early meeting (early meetings, you guys, are the worst) and blogging for my little sister over here, so I couldn’t make an appearance on my own landing page.

Sorry about that.

In any case, after a long week of adult appointments, meetings and other office-y woes, I’m ready to put my head down, get through this day, and then head to a little Friday evening yoga.

I’ll take 60 minutes of calm any way I can take it, chicks.

Bonus when there’s a good playlist and a head stand involved.

Also tonight: a Cinco de Mayo-esque mini-celebration with my pals involving both Mexican food and tequila.

I can think of nothing else I’d rather be doing to start off the weekend.

The next two days are the last ones before mid-June that aren’t full-to-the-brim with activities, plans, and traveling.

That means a combination of packing, relaxing, and laughing as much as I can.

I’m enjoying every last second of it, chickadees.

Enjoy this one- we’ve hit the weekend!

ready to get ready

Morning, chickens.

And welcome to another warm day.

It seems that we’ve finally hit our stride.

Now let’s see if we can keep it this way.

I spent yesterday riding slow trains, trying to concentrate, and hitting up hot yoga.

It was the kind of day I never quite got a handle on.

This became particularly clear when I managed to kick myself during yoga simply stepping forward.

You can’t win ‘em all, chickadees.

However, after a (clumsy) yoga practice, listening to some Pandora, ditching television for the night, and getting eight hours of sleep, I’m ready for this one.

We’re about to hit the month of May, which means 31 days until I hit the road for 14 days of work travel, pack up my apartment, and come back to a new address.

Luckily, I’ve got a quick, fun trip to Vegas in the middle of all of that- there’s nothing like breaking it up with some reckless abandon.

I’m ready for a month of getting ready, pals.

And now I’m off to (patiently, I hope) deal with the construction that’s slowing down my ride into the city.

Enjoy this one, chickens, I know I will!

 

five good things: that’s what makes you beautiful edition.

Chickadees, Friday is upon us.

And the sun is shining.

And it’s rumored to be in the 60s this weekend.

So in the spirit of what’s been a long, gray, tough couple of weeks, let’s focus on five things that make it all right.

1. My baby sister’s pal KC has written a book.

A book that will be published.

A book with a new cover.

KC is from New York and lives in Boston and is generally my soul sister and my role model.

I’m just so proud of you, sweet girl!

2. Walking from work to the train the other day, after a week of umbrella incidents and swollen joints and general malaise, I strolled across the State Street bridge to this.

 

It’s a good week to be breathing, chicks.

3. We’re in full purging mode over here in our apartment. I’m trying to picture all my weird, old stuff in my new condo, and if I can’t think of a place for it, it’s got to go. Determined to contribute in what has mostly been a JW-driven project thus far, I decided to deal with all of our living room drawers last night. I bravely opened what I knew was a drawer jammed full of strange objects, but it slid right open, and was basically empty.

JW, I’m onto you.

Also, thanks for staying a step ahead of me.

In addition, what’s more fun than finding photos like this?

4. Minimal things are planned around here this weekend. I’ve got several options, which include bells, organizing, soccer, trying to see the teens & their baby brother, and hanging on my parents’ patio.

This is what a spring weekend should look like, chickens.

5. I’m starting this weekend off with yoga in a big, airy studio and my sticky mat. There is no cure to a long week like a couple yoga poses and some deep breathing.

Namaste, chickadees, and enjoy every second of this beautiful day. You deserve it.

 

feel good about this one.

Morning, chickadees.

And here we are again.

I’m feeling pretty slow moving this Monday, after a weekend full of errands, fun, and soccer games.

It turns out that two soccer games in three hours is in fact, exhausting.

I slept like a rock last night.

Aside from playing soccer all evening (am I getting too old for that, chickens? Ok good. I didn’t think so either), I spent two days off kettle-belling, manicure-getting, and hanging out with my pals.

Also, laundry.

My least favorite task on the planet.

All in all, it was a lovely, non-raining couple of days in the Windy City, so I’ll take it.

I still have some misplaced faith that spring’s gonna show up here any second.

I’d even take straight up summer at this point, you guys.

Remind me of that in July.

And with that, I’m off for another productive day of planning, meetings, and hot yoga.

Good stretching, a hot studio, and a sticky mat at the end of this one is always the best cure for the first work day of the week.

Namaste, chickadees, and enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.

In fact, enjoy it even if you don’t.

motivation and yoga puddles.

Morning, chickadees.

And thanks for all your lovely words about my words yesterday.

We’re all feeling it, chickens.

*****

Last night, after a long day at work and a quick dinner with JW, I decided that it was not the kind of time to just be sitting around.

Generally, Tuesday is the only day that I abandon yoga and bells, but I thought it might be good to keep moving.

Cue up a class that is actually named Yoga Body Blast.

12 months ago I would have made fun of it and gone for a seven mile run instead, but you know, I’m expanding my interests these days.

The idea is that you pair circuits with yoga.

I was terrified.

I’m terrified, I told JW.

JW then gave me the business.

You’ve run two half marathons, he said.

I nodded.

Countless race, he reminded me.

You did a triathlon, he finished with.

It’s always a good point to finish on.

And you’re scared of a yoga class?

I nodded again.

But I got his point.

So I picked up my mat and headed out.

Chickens, that class is terrifying.

Trying to transition from high lunges to standing splits to warrior 3 in circuits is both embarrassing to look at and painful the day after completion.

I fell over several times, collapsing in a yoga puddle on the floor.

It’s all about opening yourself up to a little healthy scrutiny, you guys.

Enjoy this one.

hillsides and high lunges.

Hey there, chickadees!

Happy, happy, happy Friday!

We deserve this one.

It occurs to me that during this long, gray week, I’ve been a little dreary.

Blame it on the rain.

In any case, that does not mean that things haven’t been spitting.water.out.of.my.mouth hysterical around here, and so I thought I’d share a couple of gems.

Laughing is just about as good as sunshine, after all.

*****

It has come to my attention during the past several weeks that my bed is on a slant. At first it was just sort of irritating, but lately, I find myself positioning my body on the top corner of the mattress, so I don’t slide down during the night.

JW insisted this was in my head.

Meanwhile, I was mountain climbing in my dreams.

Eventually, I forced him to lift up the bed, where it has been revealed that the frame is a little bent.

Maybe too many gluten free cheese curls?

Despite my pleas to fix the corner , JW refuses to use his brute strength to bend it back into place until at least the weekend.

I’m sleeping on a hillside, chickens.

*****

Generally on Thursday nights, I hang out at work until 6:30 or so and then go to yoga.

Last night, I realized that after arriving to the office over an hour earlier than usual, there was no way I would make it until 6:30 in my cubicle.

We’ve all got our limits.

I texted Ky and asked her if she had plans, and met her for dinner, since my house really only has green smoothie ingredients and weird sweet popcorn that I bought by accident in it.

The end of the week gets a little weird around here.

Despite knowing that I had yoga in an hour, I decided to have a glass of wine with my pal.

One glass couldn’t hurt, right?

Then I had another.

Ky laughed at me, because she knows my willpower in the face of wine is nonexistent.

I only ordered this wine so we could split the bill right down the middle, I hissed.

It’s a wine of convenience. 

Ky raised her eyebrows and told me not to worry, she wasn’t reading into my wine that much.

It was a lesson though, chicks.

High lunges and spinal twists are not really compatible with two glasses of red wine.

But it’s important to learn something new every day.

Enjoy this one, chickadees!

shake wake break it or quit you

Morning, chickens.

It’s a rainy day over here in the second city.

My hands seem to be protesting the rain, or at least that’s what I’m assuming today’s joints are brought to me by.

Last night, I headed to hot yoga, and when I was signing myself in, my instructor (who is one of my favorite people on this earth) stopped my pal and I and let us know how strong we’d gotten since we started our practice.

Which was music to my ears, chickadees, because one of the most irritating part of my adventure in RA is that I don’t always feel in control of my own body.

I try to remind myself that with my lifelong coordination struggle, I’ve never really had much control over it, but that doesn’t always help when I’m trying to stretch out and just can’t.get.there.

I spend a lot of time looking around the room and fixating on all the things I’d maybe be able to do if my limbs would just listen to me.

Instead though, I spent 90 minutes last night focusing on all the things that I can do, instead of shooting jealous looks at my classmates who make everything seem easy.

And it turns out that while right now I am not the runner of half marathons or the bendiest of yogis, there’s still approximately one millon things I can do now that I couldn’t four months ago.

And so, the thought of the day, from my favorite historical figure, is as follows.

 

Do I wish the treadmill didn’t scare my knees into submission? Of course.

But then, chickens, what if I’d never learned to do a headstand?