Today is Friday, which means that yesterday was Thursday, and Thursday is kickboxing night in my world. By Thursday night, doesn’t everyone need 60 minutes of punching and kicking? And being punched and kicked? Maybe that second part isn’t for you. It isn’t for everyone, but it’s definitely my thing. I love it, and last night’s class was a particularly good one, because there were only a handful of students, so we all got a couple of rounds with each other, and also with our instructor. Who is also our sensei, those of us who also do karate. And he also is the owner of our school, and is a 3rd degree black belt. Oh, and a few years ago he won a little competition called the WORLD KICKBOXING CHAMPIONSHIP. So yeah. Who wouldn’t want to go toe to to with him, right? Actually most people wouldn’t. But, again, I do. I love it.
So after having my innards rearranged a few times, and getting caught in the face a few times, I went home and showered and noticed that my right eye was itching. We have two cats, and I am quite allergic to cats (I know, don’t ask) so I blamed them. My eye became redder and redder and I noticed some discharge (awful word!) which my husband charmingly referred to as eye snot, and I thought, oh shit. I bet this is pinkeye. And yes, earlier today my doctor confirmed that I do in fact have pinkeye, and prescribed drops and recommended cold compresses for those times when it itches so badly I want to scratch out my eyeball and replace it with one of those big jawbreakers that look like an eyeball.
So, why am I telling you all this? No reason, except that it’s on my mind and I am working on not editing myself all the time. Just getting the words out there on paper – erm blog – and, as the title of the post suggests, just “moving right along”. I’ve written before about the hazards of all that self-doubt, all that self-editing that I (and likely others) do on a regular basis, where it becomes impossible to even begin a post, or essay or story or whatever because you are waiting for it to appear, fully formed, out of your brain, onto your medium of choice. And, as we all know, the writing process doesn’t work that way. And so I’ve decided to let my brain out to play now and then and open a new post and just start typing. It’s an exercise. A good friend once described writing as a muscle you have to exercise, and I really can’t think of a truer explanation. I can’t expect to be an incredible kickboxer if I just think about kickboxing, can I? No, I have to get out there, get in the ring, fight the rounds, do the training and then – hopefully – reap the benefits of my hard work. Not a bad analogy, at all.
So back to the pinkeye. Because I’m contagious and because kickboxing generates a whole lot of sweat and other fluids (spit I mean, GOD) and because gloves make contact with eyes sometimes, it’s probably best that I avoid kickboxing tomorrow morning. Which sucks. Instead, maybe I can exercise that writing muscle I’ve been neglecting for so long and get it in better shape, get the old writing mojo humming again.
And speaking of my brain, did you know that the medical term for pinkeye is conjunctivitis? And that conjunctivitis always makes me think of Conjunction Junction? And I was going to post the video for Conjunction Junction, but it’s not my favourite of the Schoolhouse Rock videos. Conjunctions are important, of course, but verbs? That’s what’s happening.