Funk

I've been in a funk this week.

It can't even be called depression, and there's not one thing that has set it off. You could say it's a combination of my soon-to-be-unemployed state, the fact that my students have Spring Fever (and so do I, for that matter), and maybe even the fact that I've been obsessing about food.

I pigged out at school today on the Cinco de Mayo feast and I am not proud of myself.

Yes, I hear you: "Live a little, Meg! It's okay to splurge once in a while!" Yeah, it is. Here's the rub: my body doesn't want lard-filled refried beans anymore and is letting me know, via severe bloat and a feeling of wanting to throw up, that this just isn't going to do. At least I got rid of most of that by hitting the gym this afternoon.

Dinner tonight consists of broccoli, a big bowl of strawberries and raspberries, and some homemade tortilla chips. Anything heavier makes me want to weep.

The good news is, I've been a total gymbo--and this with G. the Meanie out of town! Go Meg, go Meg! I've done my cardio and even some all-out resistance training without him telling me to. Better yet, I'm not doing it to make him happy, but because I want to. My body wants that workout, wants to sweat.

And sweat it has. Maybe a little more than usual today. I was out for a miler when I saw a dog up ahead of me on the sidewalk. I should have crossed the road, but I just assumed (made an ass out of...) that the dog's owner must be nearby to prevent it from trying to attack me.

It was a medium-large dog, maybe part rottweiler. As I ran towards it, it started barking. No one yelled at it to stop, so I glanced at the house the dog was obviously protecting. No one.

Damnit, people, there are leash laws! They exist for my safety, but also for your dog's safety. Learn them, LIVE THEM.

Anyway, the stupid dog started giving chase. His mouth was right up against my legs and I started kicking my feet up extra-high behind me as I ran. He continued to bark as I yelled, "NO! BAD DOG! STOP IT, STUPID MUTT!"

I'm an animal lover, people--you have to know that--but I threw my keys at his head. I was that terrified because I wasn't sure if this dog was trying to attack me or play with me.

Either way, if his owners had been around, paying attention to him and not letting their unleashed pet run out in the street after me, I might not have been so pissed off.

Fortunately, there is light at the end of the tunnel that has been a long week: tomorrow, I'm going to San Francisco. I want to wander through Golden Gate Park in my new white skirt (size medium!) and my navy-and-white-striped floppy hat. I want to have tea in the Japanese Tea Gardens. Then I want to change into my new swimsuit and flop my rear end down on Ocean Beach or Baker Beach and spend time reading the latest Sookie Stackhouse book, listening to the Pacific hit the sand and getting some much-needed vitamin D.

Maybe it will knock the funk out of me. Yeah, I think it will.

At the very least, I hope I don't show up at school on Monday morning, trying to open my classroom door with the key fob for my Mazda. Didn't work so well this morning.