Thursday, July 31, 2008

Tacoma Stress Reduction

This last day of July my seasonally affected disorder has kicked into overdrive. I did get a brief respite, this afternoon, for a few minutes, when the temperature seemed to soar into the high 70s.

This morning I went to Lulu's where I was drafted to go to a crazy man's house to lift a big heavy wooden thing into the back of Lulu's Volvo. This resulted in multiple little pin=prick blood releasing wounds that forced me to use one of Lulu's linens to wrap around my hands to soak up the blood. It looked like a bad scene from a bad horror movie.

As if I needed any fresh aggravation, what with everything crashing down around me. I'm feeling like Hitler stuck in his Berlin bunker with the Soviets bearing down on him. Yes. I am under siege from multiple fronts.

My stressed induced cortisol levels were reaching the danger zone this afternoon. I needed to get some quick endorphins to hopefully hold off a stroke or heart attack. So, I went to Point Defiance. I ran up the trails, like a dog chasing a squirrel. Up and down I went.

After I'd worn myself out I went to the adjacent Tacoma Marina. The Mountain was partly out. It is hard to see, in a photo due, to The Mountain being snow covered and thus looking like clouds. Everything here looks like clouds.

The air smelled good, the saltwater smelled good, I was absorbing the positive energy of negative ions. I started feeling better, my stress level was somewhat abated.

And then I got back here to find my mom and dad in the kitchen in yet one more of their ongoing cooking projects. This time it seems to be marionberry jam and roast beef. My mother seems to be being grumpy. It's too early to put them on their medication. I don't think it's too early to put me on mine. But I've none available.

2 comments:

  1. Durango you are a riot, love hearing about your mom and dad. Lauri @ Chippys

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  2. I'm pleased to know someone, somewhere derives some sorta enjoyment from mom and dad. They are currently downstairs making yet more jam. I should sneak some to Fremont and make a few bucks. Lulu would likely object though, telling me the jam doesn't match her style, not shabby or chic enough.

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