The season has shifted to what locals refer to as, “the most gorgeous time of the year. You moved here at the best time!” The sun rises at 5:30 am and it’s not fully set until close to 9:30 pm.
Here’s what’s happening.
HAIR UPDATE: I chopped off my hair. I’m a pixie girl at the moment and the freedom the cut has given me is immeasurable. Let me see if I can describe it for you: I wake up and don’t inspect the pillow for shedded strands during the night; I fearlessly lay my head down on the yoga mat during reclined poses and stay tuned into the instructor instead of obsessing about how much hair will be stuck to the rubber when sit up; I get to wash my hair daily instead of avoiding it in fear of the mass exodus of strands that inevitably filled my sink as I picked out the endless tangles; I have NO TANGLES; and, I am not clenched in dread when I look in a mirror.
THYROID: It’s mad hyped, yo. As of early April, I have relapsed. I went back for more blood labs last week with crossed fingers (though I was pretty sure I hadn’t improved because I had an inexplicable restless night’s sleep, no doubt due to thyroid probs) only to learn that my numbers had crept up slightly further. My endo tweaked my meds and for now I’m dealing with only mild symptoms – mild tremors, mild insomnia, mild sweating, and the occasional heart flutter. I have definitively cut out caffeine and I am logging my eats in MyFitnessPal to responsibly track my intake. Nutrition is hugely important in managing auto-immune, so while the Methimazole does its job, I will do mine with food and supplements.
Additionally, I have made a decision — if I am still hyper at summer’s end, I am choosing radio iodine therapy. It’s a bold move and one I wasn’t very keen to at the start of this journey, but now that I have been in the thick of treatment for seven months, I’m ready to make that choice if necessary.
WORKING FROM HOME: It has its ups and downs. I am usually done by 3 pm, latest, because I start my day at 6 am PST / 9 am EST. Being an early bird, I’m perfectly happy with this arrangement. I also checked out a co-working space at which I can rent a floating desk and be around other humans doing the WFH thing, and who may also be inclined to actually talk. “They” weren’t kidding about one thing – Seattle-ites are as reluctant to make friends as New Yorkers are. It’s surprising, given how nice they are otherwise. But, I can confirm the Seattle Freeze is very real. Passive snubbing is not my preference. I prefer the outright, overt style of disregard like I got when I first moved to NYC. But I’m a GAW and I don’t mind putting in effort to make friends. “Hi, I’m Zovig, wanna be friends?” (Teddy Ruxpin style).
YOGA: I am subbing my very first class at the Baptiste-style studio Be Luminous. I am PUMPED to teach. I haven’t taught in nearly two months (though secretly I often teach classes in my head when I’m on the bus). Teaching gives me a spark inside that I can’t recreate anywhere else. It takes me out of my comfort zone, it requires I think on my feet, it allows me to be creative, and it gets me in my body and out of my head (always a better option for me since I am super-cerebral and it’s exhausting).
VOLUNTEER: Something I miss dearly about New York is the easy access to art and theatre. To get my fix, I have tapped into the small art scene here and Thursday, I have my first shift as a museum docent at the Center on Contemporary Art (CoCA). I get to be around provocative art with provocative people who want to push boundaries through creativity. A new exhibit is entitled: Painters Who Know How to Fucking Paint. I’m sure you can see why I’m interested.
ETC, ETC: I have exited the honeymoon phase of moving and have entered the, ‘Oh, I really live here and I am piecing together a routine, day by day,” phase. I miss moving fluidly from one aspect of my day to another. Instead I feel a little clunky and herky-jerky, forever following the blue dot to identify where I am and where I’m going, stopping abruptly about 20 paces out of the light rail station to go back and tap my card upon exit because that’s what you do here, navigating the impossibly huge grocery store (bigger than ones I remember in CA, but I could be wrong), and worrying that I am missing out on something cool because I don’t yet know where to look.
Still, I am so very happy I moved. I don’t miss New York, I just miss knowing what I’m doing.
Seeing What Sticks 