I've been waking up the past few days with a lot of complaints in my head. Everything hurts, I'm tired because I didn't sleep well because I'm so achy, I keep getting up and one of our four pets keeps peeing on the hallway carpet (this morning three time!!!), it seems like I am always in a rush to get the girl out to the bus, and there has not been enough time to do a proper housecleaning so everything is messy, and I've had a headache for the past week. Oh, and I gained 8 pounds during my period of having hypothyroid and it won't go away. And my hair looks awful and all my white hair is growing in way too fast (did it just appear overnight? I'm so tired of dying my hair but I'm just not ready to have white hair!) and what the hell is up with these enormous bags and dark circles under my eyes that never go away? They seem to be concurrent with how fucking achy I am.
I've been trying to counter-act my inner-whining by taking the girl to the bus and then walking the dog through my three-quarter mile loop through the woods. I don't take my phone with me and we just walk and I watch the creek and the birds and notice plants that are starting to emerge in the wetlands (like skunk cabbage which seems to have popped up overnight). I have also been singing this song by Dido to myself to try and remind myself of everything I'm so thankful for in my life.
I keep wondering why I'm in such a funk (so that when I identify the reason I can fix it) and I have come to the conclusion that it is because my birthday is tomorrow and I'm going to be forty-five years old. This just does not register in my head since I still feel like I should be twenty-nine at the most. This weekend I was complaining about how I can't deal with the reality of how old I and Trainer K. and M. were scoffing at me because they are older me. Then during my daughter's riding lesson Trainer K. said to my daughter, "You need Tasha out further on the circle because I can't make these tiny circles while lunging her," then she paused and said loudly, "Cause it's not like I'm forty-five anymore!" to which M. muttered in response, "Which is as old as Methusala" to which I muttered, "I heard that." Stuff like that makes me feel better. It didn't help though when my very good friend, T. said the other day "Don't feel bad about your birthday coming up. I mean SH is forty-five!" Sigh. It's nice that people don't realize how old I am, but it'd be nicer if I really were as young as they thought I was.
In happier, less geriatric news, my daughter is now excited to get back into weekly riding lessons. So, between that and gymnastics (which she starts today) and piano she is filled up with extracurricular activities. Maybe with the gymnastics and riding she can eventually aspire to be perform in Cavalia.