I completed all my self-imposed requirements for the day. Yoga, dance, food, the learning hour, nap time... I'm basically homeschooling myself in kindergarten.
So now it is time to relax for the evening and have my half-dose of weed. (I've been cutting down.)
I tried watching Mixed-ish on Hulu just to have something on while eating, because I think it's supposed to be funny but it made me cry? It's a bit too relatable. I'm too sensitive about the topic. I didn't say much when everyone was yelling about race because I felt like I didn't have a place at the table, even though I have lots of experience to share. Instead I waited till the eye of the storm passed and simply shared my parents' wedding photo, so people can just see with their own eyes instead of me explaining. I only needed to be called whitewashed once in my life to recall how my white mom didn't accept me as hers because I looked like my dad in all but skin tone. But that skin tone is all anyone else noticed about me where I grew up, where I stood out because of it, in my family and in my town. You know what, I am tired of even thinking about this subject. Color does not equal ethnicity and my whole soul is exhausted waiting for society to change, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.
Blechhh.
Today I am grateful for the tasty home cooked things I get to eat. And dance. Dance class was fun today. I can feel my muscles adapting, strengthening, and getting more flexible. I'm glad I have a body. I'm grateful to be able to have a full range of motion. I never want to be one of those people who sit and complain about how they're old and everything hurts (even if it does sometimes.) Use it or lose it! The more I move my body the better I feel and the less I worry about the stuff everyone else seems to worry about. Literally if you don't like something, all you need to do is get up off your butt and do something about it.
I'm surprised and pleased with myself for sticking to routines for over a year now without giving up! And with zero encouragement from anyone but myself! I think the reason I get so pissed off at people who are depressed right now is simply because I used to be too, but I'm so averse to going back to that miserable state, that I refuse to go anywhere near that old mindset. I fear it. It's a fear that keeps me healthy, I guess. It's too easy to fall back into unhappiness, and shit's contagious. I much prefer putting my phone down, getting off my ass, and shaking it, and doing hair whips and hip figure eights, even if it's only for myself in the mirror. This quarantine business won't last forever, and when it ends I am going to emerge a dancing queen, a well-rested butterfly flying from her cocoon after a long metamorphosis. Is that a corny metaphor?
5:15 p.m. - 2021-02-07