I was up at 6:00 and it was Xmas day and we did all our usual things--open gifts at Linda Sue's house at 9:00. Then back for dinner at 1:00. Then exhausted and overfilled and grateful and quiet.
On Xmas Eve, my father and brother came up for a dinner I should not have cooked. But I wanted to do it. I should have asked Dale for help but I didn't and I am paying for it now. Both wrists were pretty bad yesterday. Today, my left wrist is still in bad shape. I am doing my best not to aggravate it lest it get much worse. Typing helps my hands overall, but any kind of lifting or twisting motion strains my wrists and we all execute these types of movements all day long.
I went shopping today. As soon as the sun peeked out I jumped into my clothes and drove to the mall. To Dillard's. My store. I went for tee-shirts. They didn't have any, but they did have basic black long-sleeved shirts and mock turtlenecks. And a wild and crazy green weird fab jacket with pockets and holes for my thumbs. They had all these shirts with holes for the thumbs. I have always wanted such holes! They make perfect sense.
In the future, when I need clothes I will resist going to CATO. They have cute things, but the quality is not the same as Dillard's store brands and for just a little more money, I can buy things that will last much, much longer. I am also purging my closet to make room for the new things. I'm going to dig through and if I haven't worn it lately, or ever, I am giving it away.
In spite of all the extreme overeating and stuffing it in and then stuffing in more, I have gained only a pound or so. I call that extreme success. And I continue to feel better and better, even when I feel awful. My mood is good with only the occasional dip down. That connection between mood and movement. I am getting it. To have energy, you must make energy. Which means getting up and moving about. A lot.
It especially means to never sit and sink into my chair when I feel my mood sinking. Period. And if I do sit too long, I will be stiff as a board. That's all there is to it. It pretty much doesn't matter what type of arthritis I have because movement is the answer to any kind of arthritis. Move. Then move some more. And move again.
What I am not doing is writing. I am not writing. No. This is not true. I am not concentrating on writing. I am not working on the novel. The novel. Damn the novel and all its characters to the deepest reaches of hell. Really. How many books must one write in one lifetime? Bah. As Scarlet would say, I'll think about that later.
For now, I will, perhaps, write a bit and I will read a bit and I will clean a bit and I will watch a movie with James. And I may go for another walk if it doesn't rain again. I just slipped out for a walk into the afternoon sun, which has hidden itself again.
It's at least 75 degrees today. A record-breaking temperature. A too-warm Xmas. So much rain. Like what should happen in June and November, but happened in August and, now, December.
Bad weather of all sorts across the US. And my local weatherman says that our winter will be colder than usual, more snow. Hard to believe right now.