Day One, Dairy (and zombie) Free


247, first thing in the morning

Oh! I had such grand intentions for today. Early wake-up, a little Yoga, non-dairy creamer in my coffee…

You know what they say about 2 outta 3. It’s more like 1 outta 3, but they don’t say anything about that, to the best of my knowledge.

My husband and I watched the first episode of The Walking Dead last night and I was so freaked out and upset, I couldn’t fall asleep. AT ALL. At 3:30 this morning, I was lying in bed, dissecting the scenes that I found most terrifying. You know, all of them. I spent the entire episode as taut as a bowstring, waiting for the cathartic BOO! moment, knowing I could relax after that. But there was none. Instead, the tension shambled and crept and grew inexorably, much like a crowd of zombies. We went to bed, my husband laughing as I checked all the doors. I stopped short at drawing the curtains, but only because I knew it would send him into hysterics. Lordy, it’s been a while since I was that unsettled. Congratulations AMC. You scared the bejeezuz out of me. Now bring back my damn Mad Men.

Are you wondering what my 2 out of 3 were? Here’s a hint: I’m still taut as a bowstring. My son came in at 6:30ish, asking for breakfast, and so, much like a zombie, I staggered into the kitchen, earlier than I would have preferred, and made both breakfast and a cup of coffee with non-dairy creamer. Let me just say, it was crap. I like my half & half, folks. I like it a lot. One might even say I depend upon it. Addicted is not too strong a term. And so here I go, kicking the crack of the dairy world. I’ll also be kicking it’s version of heroin (cheese), cocaine (yogurt), meth (sour cream) and…I’ve exhausted my drug knowledge. I’m very sheltered. Perhaps Breaking Bad would have been a better choice?

I haven’t given up on my Yoga. Tonight, when my husband is bathing the kids, I’ll queue it up and try to get ten minutes in before I give up under the weight of his covert scrutiny. He likes to watch me exercise. He’s sort of perverted that way. If you’re curious, I’m doing the Ten Minute Solution Yoga workouts, via Netflix streaming.

Bending, for the non-bendy!

I’m not what you’d call yoga-literate, but this is easy to follow, physically challenging but doable and most important, she doesn’t make me cuss at my tv. You’d be surprised how many workout dvds inspire filthy language. Back in the day, my mom and I used to do a Joan Lunden VHS tape that we’d talk back to, calling poor Ms. Lunden all manner of rude names. It was effective, but incredibly annoying. I like to think the foul language burned an calorie or two.

 At any rate, this one is considerably less annoying and if my level of achiness is any indication, equally effective. I’m going to go make another cup of coffee and give myself cancer with the powdered garbage that calls itself “creamer.” I’m sort of betting it plays into the whole zombie apocalypse plot on Walking Dead. Maybe the epidemic was rooted in dairy/gluten alternatives, which is why you NEVER see a zombie drinking milk or eating a peanut butter sandwich. Or maybe you do. I only saw the one episode and I like sleep too well to watch any more.

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