Stream of Consciousness

Also known as, this and that on this Labor Day ─ not looking much like a holiday around here, except for the absence of staff.

I made it through the weekend without the smoke detector going off again.

This may be because I didn’t move the stepstool.

When I’d pulled out the stepstool to disconnect the beeping mechanism on Friday, the beeping stopped. This made me superstitious that, if I put the stepstool away, the smoke detector would start beeping again. Not wanting to take the chance, I left the stool as was.

With staff back tomorrow, I can then take the chance to put the stool back in storage.

If there is no beeping during the day but, if after hours, when staff has left for the day, the beeping restarts, I’ll know for sure the smoke detector is possessed.

A spiritual practitioner I’ve worked with for years, now basically retired from the practice, living in Hawaii, celebrated her 100^th birthday over the weekend.

She said it was a goal to live to 100.

It surprised me that she, or anyone, would actually set 100 as a goal.

To each their own, I guess.

It also got me to thinking that, even though this practitioner looks to be in good condition for her age, living to 100 would not be something I’d want for myself.

As it is, I continue to be surprised that I’m still here, when I’d always felt I’d be gone by 35 ─ one way or another.

Here I am 40 years past that, with no end in sight.

That’s the reason why I signed up to workout at the Pain Cave.

Inasmuch as it never entered my mind to live this long, I’d not paid a whole lot of attention to maintaining my physicality, other than normal upkeep.

I’ve got a few things that, had I been more concerned with my physicality, would not be a challenge now. But, as has been said, “If I knew I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself”.

At any rate, it is what it is and, looking around at how some of my neighbors have fared in this aging game, what is could have been a whole lot worse.

Sitting on my couch perch, people watching through the patio window, it was scary to see residents previously observed bouncing along the path, had deteriorated to the point of shuffling along, looking like one of AMC’s Walking Dead, or now dependent on a cane or walker.

Realizing the deteriorating atmosphere was rubbing off ─ that I myself was getting slower, weaker, felt tired all the time, I decided that, since I don’t know when my expiration date will be, I didn’t want to go out the way the other residents are going and had better make the best of it, get myself in as good a shape as I can at this stage.

But though I feel, had I known I was to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself, Trainer tells me I’m in better shape than some of his clients in their 20’s and 30’s.

“How is that possible?” asked I.

“Too much partying, overindulgences”, said he. “By the time they get to me, it’s a complete rebuild, rather than a restore”.

Trainer says it’s not unusual for the younger clients to find the work so hard that they throw up during a session.

He says, one young lady stopped in the middle of a workout, said, “It’s too hard. I can’t do this anymore” and walked out, never to return.

Other clients have complained so much about it being hard, and whine about not wanting to do this routine, not wanting to struggle with that equipment, yada yada yada, that Trainers says it brings him down. He’s told them, “I can’t work with you” and sent them on their way.

LOL.

So, though I still occasionally wish I’d known I was going to live this long, so I could have done some things differently, it is what it is and I’m grateful the is isn’t worse.

Still, I’m hoping so not to 100.

All day Sunday was prep work for the new stitch piece.

I had to zigzag stitch the edges of the aida cloth, so it would not fray. And it took hours and hours and hours to set up 65 different floss colors.

I’m so anxious to start the new project that, though I’ve not yet finished the current piece, I’ve decided to work on both, but on alternating days.

This should be interesting.

Later in the evening, while watching Big Brother, I decided to give myself a mani/pedi.

When I’d been at Michael’s the day before yesterday, I’d gotten into a discussion with the nicely manicured cashier about her nail art and how I was thinking about, but was reluctant to try, the new social media sensation ─ Skittle Nails.

As seen on the internet

I told the cashier that though I liked the way it looked on other people, I was afraid I myself would look like a clown.

“Sometimes, we’ve got to step outside our comfort zone”, said she.

That statement struck my somewhat conservative basic one-color or french manicure self, and I thought … why not.

I’m liking it.

Think it will be my thing for a while.

It’s a great way to use up a stash of leftover colors.