shanmonster | Wobbly and the Cult of the Clitoris

I went to the gym this morning and had a bad workout. First of all, my weight is down to 139 from my 155 this summer. Are my muscles shrivelling up, or what? I felt wobbly on most of the exercises, and had to put the weights back down a notch on a couple of them. By the time I got to school, I was feeling worse. I made it through the morning and a delicious potluck birthday lunch for two of my instructors, but I had to come home afterwards. I feel very weak and strange, and f00dave felt similarly. This does not bode well for either of us.

My workouts haven't been in vain, despite today's poor showing. I just had a shower a little while ago, and when I got out, I flexed and checked out my reflection. My arms are better defined now than they are in this picture. I don't get it, though. My weight is down considerably, and I don't think I've lost ten pounds of fat, so what's up with the beefier muscles? It is a mystery.

The afternoon was spent in bed. I feel considerably better now, but still quite weak. Unfortunately, tonight is also the first night of my new dance classes. I'll make it through. I always do. Hell, if I could teach classes while suffering one hell of a painful whiplash, then I can handle this. And I teach again tomorrow night, too.

At least this sudden affliction explains why my last two days at school have been so unproductive. My work suffers quite a bit when I'm coming down with the SARS, or whatever the exalted malady-du-jour is.

I did manage to set up my jewellery display at the school, though, while leaning on walls periodically to gather my strength. I still don't have my name affixed to my creations, or any of the prices listed, but everything's behind glass and already receiving praise from passers-by. It looks good hanging in there. If you'd like to check it out, feel free! The NBCCD is open to the public from 8:15-4:30 on weekdays. I want to stick my name and all the labels in tomorrow, but in case you drop by and it's incognito, my stuff is the gold and silver work with all the lapis lazuli.

While abed, I finished reading Christina Crawford's Mommie Dearest. At times it's pretty shrill and whingey, but given the content, it's understandable. It makes my own strange upbringing sound like a happy fairy tale life in comparison. Up next on my to-be-read roster is Felix Cherniavsky's out-of-print The Salome Dancer: The Life and Times of Maud Allan. I can't remember the last time I read a biography, but this one looks promising. Maud Allan was certainly a colourful character! After all, she was linked with the eyebrow-raising "Cult of the Clitoris."