I left work today feeling like absolute poo. It was mostly mental, but a little physical, too. I'm really not sure why. Work wasn't terrible, though I wasn't at all productive.
I'm just feeling so shitty about myself for whatever reason. Okay, it's at least in part because my face has been a mess for what feels like forever. Each month, it feels like I have roughly 2.5 days of decent-looking skin. Shark Week seems to be coming more than it should, which has to be a contributing factor. I don't know what the reason is for the increase in Shark Week occurrences, but I'm hoping it is just another phase of my body adjusting to the IUD (after well more than a year) and it will end soon. And I don't even feel like getting into all the bloating and body image shit that goes along with extra Shark Weeks, either.
My cranky face was on full display at the gym. I could feel myself scowling. At some point, I feel like I transitioned to a more neutral face, but still a touch scowly. I was on the elliptical, feeling a bit better as I watched Lawrence O'Donnell on MSNBC when someone touched my shoulder. I turned around to see my favorite yoga instructor. She was back! Okay, kinda back. She doesn't have a class yet; she was just taking a yoga class. But she's had her twins and is ready to come back.
Since she went on maternity leave at the end of November I've gone to three or four yoga classes. When I go, I remember why I love it so much. Yet, I just really don't like the instructors. Also, I can't make it to the 6:30 class in time and the 7:45 class finishes too fucking late. Unless, of course, Renee is teaching said late class. I'll go to that shit. She'll be back whenever a class opens up. At the very least, the instructor who replaced her is pregnant and will have to leave at some point.
Also, I'm going to get to a yoga class this week, even if it means I won't get home until well after 9:00.
That would seem like enough to turn one's day around, right? Well, at least my day. Oh, but we weren't done. I came home to find my new makeup (Stila one-step correct) AND my Rock the Garden tickets. Hooray!
But wait! That's not all. I came into the Twins-Bitch Sox game in the fifth. I was listening to Dazzle and Gordo on the radio broadcast. It took FOREVER to hear the score. Though, when I was parking at Trader Joe's, Dazzle said Liriano had a little no-hitter going. Big deal. It's the fifth inning.
I finally find out the Twins are up 1-0 on a Jason Kubel homer. And F-Bomb is still throwing a no-hitter. Holy shit!
And you know what? HE THREW A NO-HITTER. Oh my God. I'm pretty sure this is the first no-hitter I've ever seen. Certainly it is the only one I remember. I was super concerned about someone Tweeting or Facebook posting about it, but the Twins/baseball fans I follow on Twitter and my Facebook friends have plenty of goddamn sense and didn't say a word. Thank you Jebus.
Also, I will freely admit that Justin Morneau missed that tag on the double play in whatever inning that was where he missed the tag (eighth?). But you know what? It's about motherfucking time one of those calls goes in the Twins favor. It seems like those calls ALWAYS go against the Twins, and have for years. Shit, there was one in the game against the Royals on Saturday or Sunday where the ump missed a tag at second. It's the nature of the game, jerkoffs.
So today turned out to be okay. I still feel disgusting and ugly, but my mood has improved. That will have to do for now.