One reason summertime ain't easy right now is that I have a summer cold, which is completely ridiculous and unacceptable. I think this might be why I couldn't sleep the other night.
BTW, you know how I wrote about Zoe watching me and quoted Rockwell's "Somebody's Watching Me" shower lyrics? Well, within a couple of hours after that, I finished my shower, opened the shower door, and there she sat, staring up at me. It was a case of life imitating the art of my blog, I guess.
Back to the post: another reason it ain't easy is that the hot flashes are back. I had a few last year, and then "poof" they were gone, and now they're back. For those of you who haven't experienced it yet, I can tell you that is the weirdest sensation. I actually start feeling it in my legs first, and then it moves to my trunk and from there radiates enough heat that I could hold a marshmallow in my hand and organically, spontaneously toast it. But how ridiculous. Whoever heard of knees sweating before anything else on a body?
It's also not easy because my running is killing me. It's the heat. I just can't do it. So I try for early morning or late at night, and that's not working so well.
An odd thing happened the other day when I was running which has made running definitely less easy for me. I turned down a street that is not normally on my path, and all of a sudden, not one but two Great Danes started their WOOOFing at me, running until they reached the ends of their chains which jerked them back. Scared me to death. The owner just sat on her front porch, yakking away on her phone while I almost peed my pants.
But that's not the end of it. As soon as my Fight or Flight response settled down, I heard a dog approaching me quickly from the back. He was smaller, because nothing is bigger than a Great Dane, I guess, and he was NOT happy that I was on his turf. His owner was in her yard and watched me stop in my tracks and yell at him, "NO! Go HOME! NO!" while he just ran circles around me barking like a maniac, rabid thing.
So then I would walk a few steps, and he would go bonkers again. Then I'd stop, and he would run circles around me. All the while I'm yelling "No!" which has the same effect as if Jorge yelled "No!" as I reached my hand into a bowl of Peanut M&M's. This spectacle went on for years.
Finally, I turned around to the owner and in a fit of desperate incredulity yelled, "Are you going to come and get your dog??" Like, "Oh, come ON. What is wrong with you? Rescue me, Lady!"
And she replied, "I would if I could!"
So I fought this ankle biter all the way to the end of the block. I guess when I turned the corner I left his territory, and I'm sure he felt superior.
I cannot tell you how ANGRY I was at that moment. I wanted to say and do a sundry of mean things.
So I just started praying to calm down, and then I started hypothesizing about what "I would if I could" might mean.
"Perhaps she just had a round of chemo."
"Perhaps she has heart problems."
"Perhaps she is on house arrest."
"Perhaps the dog was initially chained up but he overpowered her, chained her up and ran like the wind."
I was just trying to think of anything to arouse forgiveness.
Also, this last week I have been learning a new software program at work. You can imagine how not fun this is.
Let me finish on one good note, though: My laundry room is almost complete! You will be shocked at what I ended up choosing. It is very "not me." Which can be a good thing.