Supertuna!

If I were a cartoon character/superhero, I would be Supertuna!

Just think - Popeye with more Omega 3! Eating fish as well as greens. And an ability to be sad as well as grumpy enough to save the world with his anger.

Or maybe I could never be a superhero. I worry about trying to do that everyday. Like today, when I woke ok, happy, pretty settled, but yawned my way through my 9am class, not out of boredom, but out of apparent exhaustion. The night before's 12 hours of catch up didn't catch me up all the way, I guess. Wandering home, enjoying the day, wondering why I don't spend more time outside, only to fall asleep on the couch, a cat on each curve of my hip.

I woke craving tuna. Needing a tuna salad sandwich. Seems to be a cold-weather craving for me, like the fats in the tuna are just what I need. Mayo, capers, cumin, celery salt. The cats both lick the can in turns. Maybe I would be a kick the can hero! I was never good at this in my schooldays. I feared things flying at my face.

It's not that I wouldn't make a good hero, I would. But what do heroes have for personal lives? They have to lie all the time, the ultimate governmental secret position, unable to tell lovers or brothers what they actually do for a living. "Um, I travel a lot?". Would "contemplative arts teacher" be the perfect, unpredictable cover-up for a superhero? If so, maybe I am closer than I think. And I have enough trouble with boundaries as it is trying to save myself and those I love, much less the whole world.

I feel about superheroes the same way I do about Santa - how on earth do they get around the world so fast, take care of all that goes wrong, or all that deserves meritous gifts, in such short time? Surely it must be that they live on some alternate plane. They exist where others cannot live - in telephone booths or on the North Pole - in order that others may survive.

I am "supposed" to be writing fiction. This was the assignment I gave the classes this week. And usually I have no problems with that - I woke late last night suddenly knowing how to "fix" an issue I am having with Orphano, I tend toward a lot of flash fiction lately, more often than journaling, even. And yet today I am recalcitrant toward everything- even my own exercise. I don't want to do work, I don't want to read, I don't want to even go for a walk. Everything I want I don't want just because I want it. Maybe I should try and do something I *don't* want to do and see if that, too, has been tainted? I am not depressed, oddly, just tired. More than half of the last two weeks away and I still haven't recovered. This is what the life of a minor superhero could be like - more traveling salesman than superhero.

So I'll go brush my teeth, the cats will go back to sleeping and I'll dink around on flickr for a bit. Not exactly top tuna behavior, but not bad for a Wednesday afternoon without huge looming deadlines. Got to take my down moments when I can, yo. Maybe I'll even take my flippers out for a walk...