So when was Moonday anyway? Some websites said Tuesday but one authoritative source called it Monday. I opted for Tuesday. I don’t think it really matters. I had to practice Monday – I couldn’t sleep so what else was there to do at 3 in the morning?
I’ve had a really really rough week. I went to bed at 10:30 Sunday but never fell asleep. I gave up trying at 2:45 am and hit the mat. I had a pretty good practice and then drove into the office. (Guess what? Even the 401’s pretty light at 5:30 am.) Slowly as the day wore on the weariness took it’s toll and I had to pack in work early – around 3:30 pm. I had a massage therapy session booked to deal with some tightness in my left shoulder (14lb baby girl worth of tightness), and while I was in no mood for it, I kept it. It was deep tissue – the hardest pressure I’ve ever known and the first time I have ever come close to asking for it to be taken down a notch. I was macho about it though and persevered. I got up 45 minutes later feeling pretty good but by now totally Cream Crackered (that’s cockney rhyming slang) – realise here that by now I haven’t slept in some 40 hours). I somehow managed to drive home and pleaded to be excused from the fine meal my wife had put together and crawled into bed at 7 pm after a really really hot shower. Mindful of the need to take in a lot of fluids after that freaking massage, I guzzled a couple of glasses and filled a litre bottle for the bedside.
Though I got up frequently to hydrate (and er, the opposite of hydrate), I woke up feeling no longer tired but nevertheless still totally messed up – I had a pounding headache and pain in every corner of my body. Still in bed, I grabbed my laptop from my bag at 8 with the intention of letting people know I was out for the day. But instead, having logged on, I saw the ‘red pile’ in my in basket and felt compelled to wade through it. I struggled with work until noon (still in bed though – amen for high-speed wireless), drinking lots of water and eating just a couple of kiwis and an orange. Finally I packed it in at lunch; I was hungry and made the terrible mistake of eating leftover vegetarian chili. And now, struggling with a stomache ache on top of my other ailments, I took two more extra-strengths and gave notice to the rest of Big Blue that I was done for the day.
I still had the headache. No. I still have the headache. It’s faint now, but let me check…yes…it’s still there. I feel much better though. Really I do. The rest of me has stopped aching. I must have swilled at least 6 litres of water in the past two days. I’m hypothesizing that this was all an intense detoxification.
But I still have no explanation for the Sunday night insomnia – It’s a malady with which I’m unfamiliar. I had a rare cup of coffee on Sunday afternoon. Afternoon! That couldn’t be it eh? Funny that. A few years ago I drank a litre of coffee a day without much consequence (that I could tell anyway) – black without sugar. It was my drug of choice. I gave it up last year (as a statement of commitment to my Yoga actually – coffee being considered rajasic and generally to be avoided). I suffered two weeks of intense withdrawal and then had maybe 10-15 cups all year. This year so far I’ve had maybe 3 or 4 and have found myself enjoying it less and less. I could barely finish the cup on Sunday. Instead I’ve moved to Tea – The very occasional cup of chai (drunk as it is in most Indo-Anglo-Canadian households – in a big mug as though it were coffee), and my new drug of choice, Green Tea – but just one or two small cups tops.
I don’t think I’ll be drinking coffee anytime soon. I’m developing a definite aversion to the substance I once loved. One more aspect of Yoga taking hold perhaps.