S refuses to go to Alaska with me during winter. I’ve been haunted with the biggest urge to ski recently, and home – yes, Alaska – has the most gorgeous views you’ll ever see. Snowy peaks and bourbon… Wine by the fire… I think a ski trip back home could be a sexy time.
Mountain views have always held a high position in the romance category for me. Taking in the sight of nature’s first castles with that special someone has a way of inspiring a love at its most peaceful. Massive and majestic… range upon range… mountains stand as a representation of the best and worst relationships in their makeup and existence alone.
(us on our way back to Anchorage from Seward in Alaska, summer 2014)
I picture us in a scene from some GQ magazine shoot taking place at a modest mountain resort. Warm lighting enhance our grins as we settle into broken-in leather chairs. With a Maker’s Mark (neat) in my hand and a tequila soda in his, we’d enjoy some of our favorite tunes and make the most of our chilly backdrop. S genuinely hates the cold – I’m not a big fan either – but as I write this I’m realizing this is a vacation fantasy I’ve had for quite some time now.
Snowy peaks and bourbon after a few hours on the slopes… I was never the best skier but it sounds therapeutic at the moment. Some of you may think that sounds awful, and S would agree, but the rest of you are already picturing yourselves in a similar setting. A workout, views, drinks and a little romance? There’s no way this wouldn’t be a trip to remember.
*goes to drawing board and checks available air miles*
The first day back after a long week (and a day) off are so terribly slow and painful. On the struggle bus is but an understatement, let me tell you, because homeboy was dying at his desk on Tuesday of last week. Christmas fell on a Sunday, so around this time last year, I planned to have the week of Christmas 2016 to myself. I wasn’t worried about the time being gone because I’m generally smart with my time off at work and S always has extra time to spare.
The holidays are always a great time – largely in part to the amount of Crown Royal we consume. “Ho Ho Ho!” scream our livers. S’s dad definitely makes sure the bar is properly stocked when we’re down home. We’re never hurting in the wine and spirits department. The thing we were most looking forward to was chilling at home with each other; to completely decompress.
We did a whole lot of nothing and it was absolutely fabulous. S played a lifetime’s worth of video games while I just zenned out with a plethora of self care treatments. Another huge plus of our time off was familiarizing ourselves with our new home deep fryer. We can’t say enough good things about how the fryer has stepped up our kitchen game.
2017 brings in the new grind. I’ve been drifting away from new year resolutions because there’s always so much I want to accomplish. S and I both vowed a couple years ago that working on our health, fitness, and overall well-being would always be a big focus. Your health shouldn’t have to be a resolution – I get it, I do – but instead, a commitment that is lasting and honest.
I foresee pretty big changes on the job front for me this year. My freelance public relations projects are picking back up and I’ve been working on ideas to pitch for writing opportunities. S is doing really well at his job and can now breathe with his Master of Accounting degree being complete. There are still some late nights, but Reynold and I don’t mind too much. We understand.
Eat Slay Love. We survived an extremely (and unpredictably) busy 2016 and we’re both entering 2017 a little sluggish; if we’re being truthful. Never fear, though! I think this is just part of being an adult. We enjoyed the hell out of our time off and time with each other, so sure, we’re wishing we could go back to that week (lol). So with that being said…
Goodnight. And don’t let the trap queens bite,
S studies in the loft while I debate any further activity. “I should workout. I should do something… not dishes.” My shoulder seems to be healing alright, but it’s still a little sensitive at times. Leave it to me to injure myself in a way that requires what feels like all the time in the world to recover.
“Yoga it is, sir.” I think to myself as I consider hitting weights in the morning. “No. Patience, Jamal.” Having a free workout facility is a perk many don’t have at their workplaces, but to be honest with you I’ve been feeling a tad anti-social in the gym. I’ve always preferred working out alone and being on the injured list these past couple months has reinforced those feelings. The times I did make it into the gym at a crisp 7-o-clock in the morning, there seemed to be another body flexing in the mirror; using the equipment I needed. Blerg.
I resolve that S will probably be in the books for another hour and a half and set my yoga session up in the living room.
I spark-up a simmering cider incense – because I’ve killed almost all my large candles – roll out my mat, and turn on some mellow tunes. Iman Omari has been haunting my earbuds and speakers around the house for a few weeks now. I can’t get enough of the guy! This session would be somewhat of a date with myself. Good music, subtle lighting, a peaceful atmosphere and a little bit of sweat.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss my husband while he’s busy studying – working so hard during the hours we usually spend together after work – but this evening was about me, myself, and I. My yoga sessions are usually a little more intense and happen before 6 AM. I wanted to take my time in each pose tonight to boost my focus in breathing while moving on the mat. I’ve been working up to handstand poses, so a little bit of crow pose action gave my arms and shoulder a safe test.
Remember to take some time to yourselves. I get so busy at work and tend to hit a wall (of boredom) if I don’t have anything to keep me busy at home – especially if I’m avoiding chores. Tonight I chose to hit the mat and I feel awesome. This will be a more regular occurrence while I heal and while S completes this last semester of classes.
Alright. Time for some headphone music in bed before the Zs catch me.