The Fog

I did have things I wanted to do today. Phone calls to make, emails to send, thoughts to think.

Just like every other morning, somewhere in that netherworld between dreaming and waking, I listed out in order the events on my schedule for the day. While my enthusiasm was underwhelming, I knew what had to be done. By the time my body's energy equalled my mind's motivation, I had no doubt that those things on my list would get accomplished. After all, that's how it is with me.

But something happened between the drive back from the school and now. A dark, grey fog crept deep into my thoughts, enveloping my mood and holding my initiative hostage.

I think it started with the nap I took right when I returned home.

"Just lie down for an hour. You can make the 8:30 class," the approaching gloom in my head whispered to me. Silly me. I believed it. Mistake number one.

It would have been much more productive for me to clean the sink of last night's dishes, empty the litter boxes, and start the laundry....and then go to yoga.

Well, I woke up at 8:30 a.m. I guess that 8:30 a.m. yoga class is nothing but a memory. OK, I coaxed myself, I can recover from this. I checked the schedule and found a class at noon. I gave myself a pat on the back for propping up my initiative. But the fog was still approaching.

I pulled out my computer (mistake number two) and started on the next item from my list, which happened to be confirming some travel plans. Flight reservations were a little glitchy, but I made it through. I think the biggest pitfall came in the hotel reservations. In tandem, I multi-tasked the dishes, litter boxes, and laundry.

Still no yoga. But it wasn't time to go yet.

So, back to hotel reservations. I found myself getting angry. The grey fog that was seeping into my thoughts and playing tug of war with my initiative was now getting darker and heavier and beginning to engulf my mood. As I went from hotel to hotel, Tripadvisor to Priceline, I became increasingly frustrated that they all wanted payment up front plus a 14-day cancellation window. What happened to the days when you could just make a reservation with no money on the table? That is not a rhetorical question, only exasperation talking.

By the time I threw in the towel on that one, with the added bonus of not having committed to anything therefore the prospect of dealing with it again in the near future, it was 11:15. Still time to get to my yoga class.

But the fog would not let me out of its grasp. It was right on top of me now.

"It's OK. You can take a day off from exercise. Yoga will still be there tomorrow."

Mistake number three.

The fog had me. I relented; my iniative, my thoughts, and my mood drained of vitality. All three were lying flagged and shuddering on the ground. I was grateful that no one was around to witness their bitter demise but me, as I skulked around the house trying to recover the remnants of my tattered schedule.

The good news is that I still have half the day left. Even better: this post revitalized me. The fog is lifted and scurrying away. The sun is even shining outside, for the moment. This doesn't worry me as long as the sun is shining on the inside.

Too late for yoga, or any other exercise for that matter.

But tomorrow is another day.