WonderWoman

Lovely Boyfriend is a geek. No offense, I’m just stating a fact. That fact, to some extent, makes me a geekette too. You have no idea how many comic books we have, and I’m not sure I should be proud of the fact that I know whether some super hero is DC or Marvel. And I’m the one who introduced Hellboy into our household.

One of my favourites is WonderWoman. She’s a fierce gal that one. Brunette (yay us!), strong, smart, beautiful, she truly kicks ass, figuratively and literally. She stands for justice. And she has that wicked lasso of truth, ya know, better than sodium pentothal if you ask me. A role model. Except I forgot one thing.

WonderWoman by Alex Ross ( = genius. Honest)

She’s not human. She’s a goddess.

Last time I checked, I was not a goddess. I was and still am human. My body has been repeatedly reminding me this simple fact for a couple of weeks, and a few days ago decided to shout it right in to my ears (and lungs and sinuses) so maybe I would listen.

Oh boy have I been listening. Not that I’ve had the choice really: when the mere prospect of going to the grocery store sounds like the hardest thing on earth, you’d better have a couch and a blanket nearby to rest your sorry ass.

Mind you, between two naps, I’ve had time to reconsider things, and I have to say peeps: I’ve been a little presumptuous thinking I could handle everything, i.e. a full time job, teaching yoga, translation and writing jobs (have had one coming in every week for a month), YTT, Lovely Boyfriend, running. I can’t, I am no WonderWoman.

I should soon have my working week down to 4 days a week, but until then, I’ll back off a little bit, and bring more balance into my life, hopefully. Just putting some things aside for a while, and come back to them when I truly can, not when I want to believe I can.

One thing I’m not backing off from though: teaching. I have a nice schedule coming up, with more cover classes over the next two months. Just one class I need to cancel though: the private I was supposed to teach tomorrow. No one wants to have a class taught by a Darth-Vader-in-their-face Rudolph-red-nosed sicky yoga teacher.