Blue Blob

Meh. *sigh*

Why do they call it "being in a funk"?  In the seventies, funk was a good thing as in "Bring on the funk, y'all!" Gynormously-'fro'd guys and gals in polyester jumpsuits of many colours that would've done Joseph proud, calling out to the horn and bass sections to "Get funky!"  I've neither the cloud of hair nor the outfit, but make no mistake, the funk has been brung. I've been funk'd.

Could be the hormones in my body ambushing me - great swarms of estrogen ploughing through my veins, swimming like salmon upstream to my tear-ducts and brain.  Could be seeing 2 really good movies that shared similar themes of love so strong it can drive one to panic and suicide.  Probably not the best choices in my current disposition but Damn You, Oscars!  Could be good old fashioned fatigue - trying to remain upbeat and positive and greedy with the small joys that occured everyday.  It is tiring and I think I'm pooped.  There is no up in my giddy.

I confess I've indulged in a week-end long pity party.  I wish I had prepared better - I had a feeling that a wallow was coming on all week and yet made no provisions to greet it.  What I should have done was booked a spa day, or planned for a day trip out to a munipal park for some fresh air and a massive sweat-inducing walk.  I certainly didn't plan any meals for the week-end.  Oh there was some talk of a chicken tangine and a scallop gumbo, but as I stared at my shopping list I was covered in a blanket of "what's the point".  I kept thinking of the effort it would all require, only to have it all rest in my belly for a visit until given the bum's rush. Literally.  A can of soup would do just as well.  And, as the funk had foretold, I couldn't  get up the gumption to buy any.  So I've spent the weekend living off of tea and cheese.  I had an almond somewhere...

AAAAAARRRRGGG!!! This is not good, this is not good...I gotta shake myself outta this. I'm going to beg your collective indulgences to just bear with me while I get a grip and pull up my bootstraps. This is going to require some action on my part and that air and exercise thing might do the trick.  Y'know, up until a few seconds ago, I hadn't even thought of that as an option let alone a curative. And hang on, a little lung and leg pumping gets the endorphins coursing through the estrogen clogged veins...it just might alleviate the funkishness. 

Well, we'll see.  I'm going to have a shower first to wash off the whiff of "ouache" (pronounced "wash" the "a" like "fat" - a french term that means "unpleasant" at the least and "disgusting" the other extreme).  Then on with my track togs and out into the -14 C weather, but it's sunny.  A little vitamin D couldn't hurt.  I'll remember to bring DJ IPod to bring on the funk.

In a good way.

LiliLaLarge