I still think that the weirdest thing about this PCOS stuff–well, not about it, but about getting it taken care of–is really how tremendously different things feel. Yesterday, for example, I woke up, did some shit for my dad, made soup, raked leaves, ran to town, dyed wool, played outside with the dog and cat, twisted my ankle slightly, and made a fire. All before dinner.
Basically because I wanted to just be outside and be moving around. Remember when you’re a little kid and you first learn to ride your bike and then that’s all you want to do? If you’re outside, you want to be on your bike, all the time? That’s kind of how I feel about being outside here.
And part of it is that it’s so beautiful in my back yard that I am still not over the novelty of the fact that, as long as I continue to pay my mortgage, I can continue to have that back yard.
But part of it is just that moving around feels so different. I asked my doctor about it and she said she didn’t know, that maybe fixing how my body processes insulin has had that side effect. I don’t know and I don’t really care.
All I know is that taking two days this week just to move some leaves around in my yard feels like the biggest decadence.
Though, I must admit that all the good-feeling in the world has not softened me on my hatred of in-the-house work.