Typical April

Despite the changes brought by climate change, April was and is the most aggravating month (Eliot's "cruelest month," same thing). The difference between the old days and now is that in the old days (in Colorado) we had more snow. But the month was still always a mix of warm and cold, wet snow with greening branches poking through.

This past week we had it all: a couple of horrible hot days, in the 80s, and then on Friday it snowed. Rained first, and then snowed, and then rained some more, and then snowed some more. When I got up Saturday morning we had a dusting only, and I didn't get out with my camera until almost all of it had melted, but at one point Friday evening the snow was coming down hard. My automatic response was "oh no!" but I tried to quell that, reminding myself that this could be our last snow of the year. What, do I want it to be hot and humid all the time? Wednesday and Thursday were awful. Enjoy the snow, I told myself, and so I did, sort of. But I didn't want to go out in it.

One problem with April is that I have started to wear lighter clothes. I'm so tired of my winter pants, I don't want to put them on one more time, even if it does snow. So I'm wearing capri pants and sandals -- and I'm cold. Also, I opened my bedroom window -- after keeping it closed for most of the last four months -- and now my bedroom is cold. I know, I know, I could close it again. But it's April! The window should be open! And thus I'm cold.

This week we are going to have more heat (though only 70s, thankfully), and wind, i.e., fire weather. And then, starting on Wednesday, chances for rain and snow the rest of the week. Typical April.

I didn't walk at all this week, and the bad weather is not really an excuse. I mean, it was an excuse on Friday, but that's it. I could easily have gone out on the hot days, but I didn't. (I did lift weights one day. The goal was two days, but one day is better than zero days.)

I keep telling myself I'll exercise "next week." So weird, a lifetime of walking and then now, in my early old age? late middle age? (what are the 60s called?) I don't seem to want to walk anymore at all, unless I have a family member with me. There's always an excuse. Here are some of my excuses (real live excuses that I have used with myself more than once):

1. I'm too fat, people will look at me
2. Too many other people out walking (they'll look at me, might even say hello)
3. People will think I'm a homeless person because my clothes are so awful
4. People will think I'm a porch pirate because I'm not walking a dog
5. People will think I'm odd
6. (are you sensing a theme here?)
7. I'm tired of the same old walk, there's nothing interesting to look at
   
8. If I glance over at things in people's yards (flowers in the spring and summer, leaves in the fall), people will think I'm actually looking at their front porches (because I'm a porch pirate) or their cars (because I'm going to come back later and steal their catalytic converters)
9. If I stop for a couple of minutes to look at things (birds in trees) people will think I'm odd or homeless, or they may even stop too and try to figure out what I'm looking at, possibly engaging me in conversation
   
10. If I walk past the same houses every day, their residents will think "oh there goes that fat odd possibly homeless person again, what's her problem?"

Well, that was useful. I never realized that almost all my negative feelings about walking have to do with other people's supposed opinions. I mean, I knew it was part of the problem, but this is pretty intense. Huh. It's basically the opposite of what older women are said to experience: that people don't notice them, that they're nearly invisible. I seem to think I'm the most visible thing out there.

When I was talking to my doctor about exercise, she said something about how she thought in Boulder, if a fat person goes to a gym, other people will be encouraging, like, hey, good for you, you're exercising. I just looked at her like she was crazy. (She's very skinny.) I know what it's like to be a fat person in Boulder. Other people are NOT encouraging, they are disdainful. Still, I wonder if I'm exaggerating their interest here.

...

Well, it's now 7:30, so even with that bit of illumination above, I didn't go for a walk. I guess I'll try again tomorrow.

We have an unusual week ahead of us. Teen B is going on a band trip, Wednesday and Thursday. I had to buy him black dress shoes (I got some at Target) and other accoutrements. I'm worried that he'll back out at the last minute, but he probably won't. He's pretty good about doing what's expected of him. Still, I'm a bit concerned.

Monday, I have an online appointment with a doctor from the Colorado Sleep Institute. I am so not looking forward to that. Either they'll say, well, you probably have sleep apnea, here's a CPAP machine to wear every night for the rest of your life, or they'll say, you need to come to our lab and stay overnight while we study you (in which case, what will I do with the twins?), or -- I don't know if there's another possibility. It all seems bad. 

Tuesday I see the orthodontist, and that night is the book group meeting which will include a new potential member, which makes me nervous. Instead of just being myself, I will have to be on my best behavior so that the new potential member doesn't think I'm weird.

Wednesday I send Teen B off on his trip, at least I hope I do, and deal with only Teen A at night and the next morning.

Thursday night Teen B will come back, and I'll have to pick him up late at night and it will probably be raining and snowing.

Friday the kids have off and I have to go to a funeral that morning (the mother of an old friend of Rocket Boy's).

And at some point during the week I'll need to go in and pick up my new glasses. Probably the kids' glasses too.

With all that to look forward to, I don't know if I'll get much else done, but I'll make the usual plans and do the best I can.