So I’m a little stressed. I was stressed before I hit the deer, discovered I’m probably going to be looking at people sideways in a couple of years, and found out there was no cake in my future. Now I’m interacting several times a day with an app that yells at me (figuratively speaking) if I don’t eat breakfast. I’m making progress, my numbers are coming down, but they’re not coming down fast enough, especially that bottom line blood pressure number. I should be seeing better results. I’m Jenny Crusie, damn it, I do everything well. Okay, not relationships or housecleaning or cooking (the smoke alarm went off last night while I was making salad), but a lot of things. THIS thing. THIS THING I SHOULD BE DOING WELL.
Okay, I’m a little more than a little stressed. But nothing I can’t handle. I’ll just research it. [Googles.] Aha, meditation is good for blood pressure. (There were ten things that were good, but that wasn’t much help since it said to reduce caffeine (I don’t use caffeine), quit smoking (I’ve never smoked), and quit drinking (I don’t drink).) But meditation, I can meditate, I bet. I bet I’d be good at meditating. I bet I could win a medal at meditating if there was a meditation competition. Yeah, meditation, that’s the ticket.
Except I’m a little tense. But taking hot baths makes me less tense which I found out two days ago. The one yesterday wasn’t so good because we ran out of hot water (the tub in the master bath is the size of a small quarry) but the one the day before was excellent. So maybe if I meditate in the bath . . .
[Google.] Relaxing baths are excellent for blood pressure. So how to meditate. [Google.] The Relaxation Response. I’ve heard of that. That’s been around for years.
So step one is sit in a relaxed position. No problemo, I’ll be in a hot bath tub with the jets going.
Step two, close your eyes. Yeah, yeah, got that.
Step three . . . how many goddamn steps are there? SIX? Jesus wept. Okay, step three, relax all your muscles, starting with your feet. Really? How many muscles can there be in feet? I should google . . . no, focus. This may be why you have high blood pressure, lack of focus.
Step four, breathe through your nose, saying “one” on the breath out. Okay, I’ve had allergies since I was born, I’ve breathed through my nose maybe a total of ten hours in my entire life. So I’ll breath through my mouth (Jenny Crusie is a mouth-breather) saying “one” on the exhale.
Step, five, continue for twenty minutes.
TWENTY MINUTES? What am I, made of time? I’m supposed to breathe for TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES?????
Okay, maybe this is why I have high blood pressure. Calm down, deep breaths, saying “one” on the exhale, you can do this, Crusie.
Step six, maintain a passive attitude (snort) and if distracting thoughts appear, concentrate on breathing and the repetition of “one.”
Okay. No problem. I drag my blood pressure things upstairs and while the bath is running, I take my blood pressure as a comparison point. 147/84, pulse 88. That’s a rapid pulse for me, mine is usually in the seventies, but I’ve been reading about meditation and it’s been upsetting me. The 147 is a little high for me but the 84 is sadly normal. Let’s see what a hot bath can do.
8:10: I get into the bath, I’m breathing in and out and saying “one.” Why “one”? Why not “om?” Why not “hmmmm.” Why not “Alan Rickman is a hottie but I wish he hadn’t gotten that face lift?” Well, that one would be distracting. Where was I? Right. Inhale, exhale, “one,” inhale . . .
8:11: . . . exhale. I have nice feet. I can see them there propped up on the end of the tub. I beat myself up for all my failings, but I never tell myself, “Crusie, nice feet.” Of course, the Vaseline helps tremendously . . . oh, crap, meditate, Crusie. Inhale, exhale, “one,” inhale . . .
8: 12: . . . exhale. If this works, it’s going to be hell for the rest of the family since this swimming pool of a tub uses up all the hot water. I can see me telling Sweetness and Light that they’re going to have to take cold baths because Fake Aunt Jenny has high blood pressure. Actually, Sweetness might buy it, but Light would be all, “Forget that, I’m taking my bath first.” Little bastard. She’s so much like me. Where was I? Inhale, exhale, “one,” inhale . . .
8: 13: . . . exhale. You know, I don’t like saying, “one.” It doesn’t feel right. It makes me tense. I should not have to say “one.” I can just breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale . . .
8:14: . . . exhale. God, I’ve been doing this forever. The twenty minutes has to be up. (Looks at clock). FOUR MINUTES? Are you kidding me? I have to stay in here another SIXTEEN MINUTES?? Crap. This hot bath is making me tense. Wait. I could get a blog post out of this.
8:15: (Plans blog post.)
8:16: You know what would be good with the blog post? Pictures. (Fumbles in purse next to tub, gets phone.) Krissie took a picture of herself in the tub, I could do that. (Takes pictures. Looks at pictures.) Dear god, does high blood pressure and diabetes make you look like a corpse? This is awful. Krissie looked so cute. Why don’t I look cute? Where did those dark circles come from? I’m sleeping just fine. Hell. This is no good. (Puts phone back in purse.) Where was I? Oh, right, meditating. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, what time is it? Really? REALLY? FOURTEEN MORE MINUTES? Jesus, how do people do this without losing their freaking minds? INHALE, DAMN IT.
8:17: Fuck it, I’ll read a magazine.
8:18: I can’t read this magazine in the tub, the light’s too bad. Hell. Inhale, exhale, inhale . . .
8:19: . . . exhale. I’ve got to clean some of the stuff off that shelf. I don’t do knickknacks, how did all those knickknacks get up there? They’re my knickknacks, I definitely put those knickknacks up there, but really, I am so not a knickknack person . . . Meditate, damn it. Inhale . . .
8:20: . . . exhale. I really do have cute feet. I should take pictures of my feet.
8: 21: Here are my feet being coy.
8:22: Here are my feet meeting for the first time.
8:23: Here are my feet overwhelmed by their environment. I bet they have high blood pressure.
8: 24: Here are my feet doing an impression of Krissie in a bathtub with Alan Rickman.
8: 25: WILL THIS TWENTY MINUTES NEVER END?
8:26: I don’t have to stay in here for twenty minutes. It’s my bathroom. It’s my bathtub. IT’S MY LIFE AND I DON’T HAVE TO STAY IN THIS BATHTUB FOR TWENTY MINUTES. Of course, it’s also my blood pressure. Inhale . . .
8:27: . . . exhale. Jeez, I’m like a beached whale in this tub. A healthy woman’s waist is 36″ or less and mine is 44″. I told Lani that and she said, “Are you sure?” Yes, I’m sure, I measured with a tape measure. Those things don’t have glitches. Damn low tech tools. Inhale . . .
8:28: . . . exhale. Why is chocolate pudding a minus .5 in NetDiary? If +5 is good and -5 is bad, how bad can one cup of sugar free, fat free pudding at -.5 be? My lunch salad was a +7. I could have another salad tonight. That would give me another +7. PLUS FOURTEEN! Then I could have another pudding. That would only be a total of minus one. That would give me a thirteen plus the apple and the fish for dinner but I don’t remember what those counts are and anyway, wouldn’t I have to divide by something to get the day’s number? Lunch, dinner, a snack, divide by three? Carry the minus five? Fuck it, I’m having more pudding. Where was I? Inhale . . .
8:29: . . . exhale. I’ve been in this tub for three days. THREE DAYS. (Old Dogs and Goddesses joke.) Surely it’s been twenty minutes . . . oh. Nineteen minutes? Really. Okay, I can do one more minute.
8:30: and EXHALE! HA! Told you I could meditate.
Okay, who are we kidding, that was worthless. (Hooks self up to iHealth and starts blood pressure thingy.) I should be watching kittens playing or something, that would lower my blood pressure, not a stupid breathing thing in a bathtub with jets, the jets were probably really bad for me–
Really? Dear god, that’s NORMAL. Wow. Meditation works. Who knew?
Here’s a picture of me, meditating awesomely.