Dissatisfaction

I am antsy and cranky and dissatisfied. I have a multitude to-dos on the to-do list, but I can't settle on any of them. My appetite for politics has suddenly dwindled to a precious few moments of web-perusing each afternoon. My enthusiasm is kaput.

Exercise? The same. I can't ski outside because there's snow. Oh, the irony. So I'm stuck on my Nordic Trak. But we moved the downstairs VCR upstairs, to replace the broken one upstairs, and now I have no way to tape and view something to watch while skiing. I'm reduced to watching MSNBC and listening to WGN at the same time. Which I'm not finding terribly fulfilling, since my political glee is nil and they repeat the same info over and over and over again.

I think I should go back to yoga, as it would be good for my back and soul, not necessarily in that order. But I look at the list of classes at my local yoga place and dither about, coming up with reasons not to try this one or that one.

Strength training sounds good. Love feeling strong and using non-motorized machines. And it's good for the bones, which is important to consider when you're 46 and related to women with holey bones. So I bought some weights. Which now reside in the closet of the tandem.

It's boring, lifting weights at home.

Perhaps I should join a club. Speaking with a friend on Saturday, her enthusiasm for her particular club knows no bounds. I could get up at 6a and have a different kind of workout each day. Plus I'd get to play with the machines. Did I mention I like the weight machines?

It costs money, working out at a club. And we're already paying for one membership that's not being used. Our checkbook cringes at the possibility of paying for a second one.

Ideas flit into my head, ideal for either blogging or writing. But they fly out again, usually before I can get to the computer. I'm left with ghostly thoughts that are even more unsatisfying than no ideas at all.

I wish I'd been able to get away and ski at the beginning of February, per the usual plan. Being snowed in definitely put a crimp in my psyche. I needed a bit of space and I didn't get it. And now I'm petulant and self-centered and a bit snappish.

I, i, i. Me, me, me. I have a friend with a dying father. A brother with a dead puppy. You'd think I could find something positive to think about, given the abundance and good fortune in my life. But, nooooo.

Off to sulk and be mad at myself.

Liz