A day of odd happenings

Yesterday was strange.

It started with my usual routine these days, checking the three spots where I have put nifty black mousetraps that allow me to release the mouse in a bag without looking at it and then place the peanut-butter-laden trap back in its place. The family likes the silverware drawer, the lazy susan, and the area under my sink. Every time I put the silverware back in, I have to take it out and wash it. So it is on my kitchen table. I found the mouse in the drawer.

(This post is in chronological order, not order of importance.)

I did a phone interview for a story I am writing and did some stuff around the house.

Then, I went down to Enfield to get in on a group lesson with George. I am enjoying my clinics in with Michael, but I wanted to check in with George to brush up on my slice. It was just me and one other woman whom I had not met before. George used me as a slicing model! When introducing us, he told the other woman that I had had three bone marrow transplants. Actually, I said, it was four. He said they must be doing something to my blood in the ECP because my strength, flexibility, balance and movement have greatly improved.

After that, I went to Starbucks to buy some coffee to take home and sit down with the newspaper and have a cup to get me back home. I started talking to people, left, and forgot my coffee.

Back home, I decided to go to a yoga class at 7:15 at Serenity Yoga because I am not going to be able to make my usual Saturday morning class. While waiting, I browsed the freelance writing jobs on line, found one that I liked, and applied to it. Then I went to yoga. I was the only one there, so I had a private lesson in which the lovely teacher, a sub, gave me excellent new tips on keeping my balance, such as finding four spots in my feet and pressing them firmly into the ground. She also gave me a wedge for my hands. It helped with the arthritis in my left hand that is a problem when doing down dog.

At home, now around 8:30, I steamed broccoli and cooked a little ravioli and checked my email. I had gotten a response to my job application. The editor sent a three-page press release and asked me to rewrite it in 300 words, with a focus on the message that the employer wanted to convey, and return it within 24 hours.

It reminded me of being back in Jon Klarfeld's journalism class at Boston University in which he gave us the chronological information on a fire story, with the lede buried (something about a person in a bathtub), and we needed to rewrite it in order of importance, and if we failed, be greatly mocked. I say this with affection because it toughened me up and he did it with a sense of humor.

I violated my rule of not writing before bed and stayed up until 11:30 rewriting the press release. I tossed and turned and woke up tangled in my quilt and sheets. This always happens, but in this case I thought I needed to get the job done quickly.

Today, I had planned to go to the Northampton Y for a yoga class. But I have go back to Longmeadow to get my coffee, so I signed up for the round robin in Enfield. I thought of canceling because I am bleary-eyed. But I already said I would go and that is what I want to do. Hopefully I will be able to see the ball.