Home > Life > You can’t teach a dumb dog new tricks.

You can’t teach a dumb dog new tricks.

This morning, I received a cryptic/encouraging/Elvis Costello text message from Mr. Latimer:

“Rest up. 2morrow it’s welcome 2 the workin week. Good luck. x0”

Tomorrow, I start my new job. I am pretty pumped about this. I was offered a case management position at a supportive housing facility for residents with co-occurring disorders. This facility is also transitioning to the Sanctuary Model. Since trauma-informed care is my primary area of interest, and issues surrounding housing and homelessness have become increasingly important to me, I consider myself fortunate to have this opportunity. While I’m excited to get back to work, I’m a little nervous for all the regular reasons you get nervous before you start a new job; however, I also have a cold right now. My face feels like it’s filled with wet cement and coughing seems as natural as breathing. That’s not really how I want to come out the gate at my new job.  Yesterday, I still went for a run and also went to judo. My theory was that I could sweat out this cold. I can’t say my theory works as I put it into practice, but I do want to go to jiu jitsu and kata tonight. I conveyed my current health status and plan to my dad in a brief text message. He texted back:

“REST UP.”

Mr. Latimer knows me. I am not good at taking care of myself. Yes, I engage in physical activity and my diet’s fine. But as far as going to bed early and “taking it easy”? Well, I find that difficult. This is because I am a stubborn idiot. I don’t want to slow down for anything. It’s just no fun. I don’t want sit around all day and “rest up.” Logically, I know I should. I had a moment on Sunday where I was convinced I had a fever, and during my two hour judo practice last night, I thought I was either going to throw up or fall asleep while standing. Or both. But since I woke up feeling OK (proof that rest is crucial to preserve one’s physical health), the illogical/dominant part of my brain thinks it’s fine to go to my club for three hours tonight.  And this line of thinking, ladies and gentlemen, contributes in part to how I wound up with Shingles last fall–my supreme devotion to stubborn idiocy.

So will I go train tonight? I don’t know yet. But if I do go, please don’t tell my dad.

 

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  1. September 25, 2012 at 13:22

    Congratulations on your new job, Lori! I am so happy for you! But…listen to your dad. Please, please. Please, please, please, please, please.

    You’re going, aren’t you? 🙂 xoxo

    • September 25, 2012 at 18:24

      Thank you so much, Brandi!

      I’ll have you know that I am exercising some common sense and staying in tonight. I feel really ungood, and I want to my best to be bright and shiny tomorrow. Your seven “pleases” convinced me. 🙂

  2. October 1, 2012 at 17:14

    I SO relate to this. Why is self-care so tough? Wish I knew. Congrats on the new job –exciting time for you. All the best in this new phase of life.

    • October 1, 2012 at 23:39

      Thank you!

      I think sometimes it’s difficult to take time for ourselves because then we have to admit that we’re struggling. And instead of being gentle on ourselves and cutting some slack, we think it’s some sort of weakness. Well, maybe I’m just speaking for myself, as I hate admitting something doesn’t feel right.

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