I worked out Monday evening for the first time in a week, what with being sick and all. It went really well. I felt great and I even curtailed my workout a bit just so I didn't overdo it.
By the time I got to my car, I had the brain-rattling, dizziness-inducing coughs and things went downhill from there. I slept horribly Monday night. This was because I woke up a number of times, unable to breathe, because I was almost choking on phlegm. Yes, I know -- GROSS. Also, it's pretty fucking scary.
Last night, I didn't do cardio before yoga, because I attributed the coughing, especially, to heavy breathing through my mouth. Like it or not, when I'm working out, I'm a mouth-breather. Quite frankly, due to my near-constant state of half-congestion, I'm a mouth breather more than I'd care to be.
The plan last night worked. I really made it a point to focus on my breathing (a major pillar of yoga as it is), and breathing through my nose to the extent possible. I actually slept really well last night. Or, at least as well as I've slept since I came down with this fucking cold.
After Monday, I was hesitant to work out tonight. The fact that I had a cough-induced headache (and was coughing a lot) all day didn't help matters. So, instead of pushing myself and prolonging this cold or worse, setting myself back, I decided to not work out tonight.
This is where the lack of structure comes in. When I don't get home until 8:00 or 9:00 at night, I swear that I am 50 percent more productive than when I come straight home from work. Possibly 100 percent more productive. This is why I go to the gym even when I'm exhausted or hurting or feeling like shit. Because if I come home right after work, I somehow manage to do absolutely nothing, and the next thing I know, it's time for The Daily Show, and then bed. Or more fucking around and then bed. But if I have only a limited amount of time in which to get things done, I'll use that time wisely. I mean, sometimes, anyway.
Tonight I've mostly fucked around. That's what it feels like, anyway. I cleared some things off my DVR; watched a bit of the Coons-O'Donnell debate (which was fucking torture, by the way); watched the last several Chilean miners make it to the surface (which was fucking amazing, by the way); did dishes; made low-fat cream cheese frosting for the healthy-ish carrot cake I made recently; finished up the thing I quit doing at work because my brain had stopped functioning ... oh, and I took out the trash.
Maybe that's not a completely non-productive evening, but it feels like it for me.