IN MY OPINION
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9 May 2008
I have this yawning problem. Well, it's not really a problem for me, but I yawn a lot. People are always asking if I'm tired or bored, and I'm neither -- I just yawn a lot. In fact, sometimes it's downright embarrassing to be in the middle of a conversation about something I'm interested in and find myself yawning, which makes the other person think I'm bored, when I'm really just very into the conversation and it's just that once I yawn once, I can't seem to stop. It's like people I know who go on sneezing jags. I just go on yawning jags.
I especially yawn when I'm cold. Walt has finally come to realize that my yawning when we're driving in the car doesn't mean that I'm sleepy or bored, it just means that it's cold outside and my body has somehow decided that the way to get more oxygen into my bloodstream to warm me up is to yawn.
Or at least that's how I explain it.
Or maybe I yawn because I don't get enough sleep and I'm not aware of being tired, but it's just when I sit down to concentrate on something, all those tired genes come to the fore and cause me to yawn.
I try not to be too obvious about it, but I guess I can be. My mother usually comments about the fact that I almost always yawn when I'm talking to her on the phone. It doesn't mean that she is boring me, it just means that...I yawn.
It's a very weird thing, but I've been doing it for so long I don't even think about it any more. What's particularly weird about yawning is that half the time I don't yawn in response to seeing someone else yawn. Sometimes I fall victim to the yawning contagion, but most of the time not. In fact, when I started thinking about my yawning problem, I did some research on yawning and why we do it (conclusion: nobody really knows, though there are lots of theories).
The article said that it bet that before I finished reading it, I would yawn. But I didn't. Made it all the way through the article without yawning once, not even looking at the two photos which were supposed to trigger the yawning response. How about you?
It sure seems strange around here tonight, with no puppies. It's always sad to give up a puppy that we are fostering, especially when they are too young to go up for adoption yet. Munchkin didn't get picked up until mid-day today, so we had one last night together.
He was a good puppy and slept curled up on my arm all night and didn't wake up until after 6 a.m.
But the taking care of Munchkin until he was picked up made me glad that I had asked for him to move on. Munchkin is very demanding for such a little guy. He absolutely cannot stand not to be in my lap or in my arms. I wished that I had a sling so he could just ride around on me all the time. We both would have been happier for it.
I was on deadline this morning, trying to finish my spotlight feature, which was due today, and you just can't compose and type an article while you are cuddling a puppy. It just doesn't work.
I would put him down and within 5 minutes (or less) he would be crying to be picked up again. Every single time I picked him up I had the pain in my side again. People have suggested that perhaps I cracked a rib, but actually this wasn't the side that hit the ground. The pain is definitely more, as my friend the transcriptionist diagnosed it, "more chest wall/muscular strain and stretch." Like any sore muscle, it is getting better, but slowly, and anything that involves getting to a standing position, or a sitting position, or bending over or reaching off to the side or coughing or, yes, yawning sends pain up my side, while just sitting in one position, watching television or here at the computer does not.
By 10 a.m., I knew for certain that sending the puppies off had been the right decision and I was very eager for Munchkin to go.
The afternoon passed quietly and I almost forgot about my side until it was time to feed Lizzie and Sheila, which meant leaning over to pick up their bowls. I still have to lift the container of dog food up halfway in order to scoop out their meals. Can't bend over.
I'm sure I'll be better in a couple of days. I'm just sorry that whatever I pulled doesn't cause me to turn pretty colors of black and blue, so there will be no photographic evidence. (And in my life...if there are no photos, did it really happen?)
PHOTO OF THE DAY
(I don't miss the razor-sharp teeth either!)
MILES TO NOWHERE: 34 miles
I took a fall and pulled a muscle or