Wednesday I woke up with what I was sure was the flu. Groan... seriously? The flu on my Staycay?? How could this be possible??? I decided it was in my best interest to lay low and do some of the quiet things on my list. What could be more perfect than to read and watch some chick flicks, eh?
This is where I start to feel like a broken record as I say, "it didn't quite work out that way." Why is it that I've felt that about every single day? Clearly I have a habit of planning things and then am disappointed when they don't work out exactly as I had envisioned them. (Story. Of. My. Life.) Fortunately, I tend to wrap up posts by saying or implying that, All worked out well in the end anyhow. Things always work out in the end in life, one way or another. It's the seeming panic, frustration and/or irritation about not feeling like I can trust that things will work out that trips me up. In therapy speak, I probably need to challenge myself more on "trusting the process".
Speaking of therapy, I had it on Day 5. I felt like I was on crack as I talked to her. I'm not sure if it was having not talked to anyone except my husband and cats for the last few days, having not talked outloud much in general for the last few days, or if Staycay is having a profound effect on the speed of my mental processing. I sat down and immediately started talking a mile a minute, sometimes delving into details of my days as if my therapist knew the backstory and context (and she didn't). I told her all about Staycay so far, and I ain't gonna lie... a lot of it was recitation of what I've written here. I should have just given her the URL.
Then she said, "I know you may not want to talk about it during your vacation, but do you have any thoughts on work since you've been away?" My response comprised the bulk of our session, to my surprise. A lot of shit went down since I saw her last, which was actually three weeks ago. Most notably, we did two in-service days to learn a facilitation method that seems to be really resonating with me and we were evacuated from our Oakland office on the day of the Mehserle verdict (weird, racist, disturbing).
At the end of our session, she told me I get an A+ for therapy. Just kidding.
Other than that, I did some running around while feeling ill and then finally came home to chill out. Once I got home and under a blanket on the couch, caught up on Pretty Little Liars (ooo, juicy!) for a couple hours, I felt a lot better. A similar thing happened once before with me. Honey Bunny and I got back late one night from visiting his ailing father in Hawaii, and something about the intensity of that visit plus the two hours jet lag produced the feeling of a nasty flu coming on. When I woke up on California time the next day, my entire body ached so badly that I just wanted to put my head down again and sleep for 24 hours straight. By the late afternoon, I felt fine. The same happened, thankfully, on Day 5 and I'm happy to report that I do not have the flu.
After my DVR run of Pretty Little Liars concluded, I decided to try out Twilight which I had DVR'd a few weeks back and was never quite in the mood for. It seemed like the perfect chick flick to indulge in so I turned it on and was really quite surprised by the first five minutes. It was much more arty and moody than I had anticipated for a movie geared towards teen girls. I do love Kristen Stewart's voice, and how she looks like a tomboy even if she's wearing a pretty dress.
Honey Bunny walked in from work right at that five minute mark, where I paused and we talked about our respective days. Seeing the frozen frame on the TV screen, he asked what I was watching and I gave him the 411. I said, "I was just getting into it and want to watch more, but be forewarned: it might be too 'chicky' for you." He said to go for it as he was about to go change and shower anyhow, but he didn't make it far. He watched standing up for a few minutes and then sat back down to watch the whole thing. We were both completely sucked in. My husband, who will reluctantly stay for Sex and the City when it's on, but runs out of the room so fast he leaves skid marks on the carpet when anything else remotely 'chicky' comes on, watched Twilight with me! Who knew?
One chick flick down, at least one to go.
Mark liked it too!
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