Where Gaynip Gets Off Her Ass

The humidity has been too much for me to deal with this summer.  I’m so prone to heat exhaustion and heat stroke that I don’t even bother to exert myself physically outside.  I’ve been lifting weights inside, but it’s not been enough.

Suffice it to say, I’ve been feeling cagey.  Today was mild, a perfect summer day, really.  25 Celsius with a bit of a breeze going.  I avowed, on the air, that I would go home and go for a bike ride.  Rachel canceled on me anyway, as Stephen had made plans without informing her.  I went for a bit of a car ride to cheer myself up, then walked in the door and pumped up the bike tires.

Amazingly, I was able to lift the bike up effortlessly and carry it up a flight of stairs and outside to the parking lot.  Hurrah for measurable results with the weight lifting!  I took the path that leads into the woods by the house and had a hard time almost immediately.  Soft ground, uphill, branches everywhere.  I got off, grunted a bit at myself for not being able to do it, and pushed it up the hill.

Once I got to something a bit more level, I hopped on and away I went.  I had to stop a few times as the path was uphill and not really maintained.  It was a lot of peddling through longer grass, a felled tree and odd stones.  At one point I reached a spot where the path got kind of dark and gloomy looking.  Reminded me of that scene from Beauty and the Beast where Belle’s father, Maurice, has the horse (Phillipe) with his invention.  He wants to take the shortcut down that scary dark path with wolves howling, and the horse wants to go down the sunny path with birds whistling.  But, I made myself go on ahead.  And nearly had a heart attack.  Scared a nestful of grouses or pheasants or something.  Their wings make a loud flapping and they do this little call.  Must have been trying to lure me away from their nest.  One of them looked like he was thinking about taking me on.  I sorta watched them for a bit, then continued.

Along the way I found some blackberry brambles and cursed myself for not having anything to put them in.  Then I remembered the little pouch on my bike and grabbed it.  I’m glad I wore pants as my legs would be all torn up now from wading into the brush.  I was eaten alive by bugs and bloody from thorn scratches.

Arriving  home, my heart rate was a decent 75%.  This is pretty good considering I was in the cool down mode.  I was drenched in sweat.  My back, my belly button, my face, neck, arms…you name it and it was pretty much covered in a sheen of sweat.  I even smelled bad.  I feel like I have earned my shower tonight and my supper.

Sort of amazing really, the sense of accomplishment one gets from something like a good hard bike ride.  Tonight I will go to bed tired from effort.  That’s simply lovely.

Fresh Blackberries!

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Back to the Grind

Vacation is over and we’re back to the bump’n’grind of my job.  Thankfully it’s not a 9-5 but more a 12:45-6.  Except today.  I’ve got stuff to do for the city station, so I’ll be handling that til 7 or 8.  I’m not looking forward to it, simply because I have little in the way of materials to draw on, having been gone for a good bit.  I expect I’ll re-use some material I did yesterday and dig back into my 58 e-mails whilst I was gone to find some material.

Stuff to talk about may include:

-The Band Aid incident.

-The Hospital Visit.

-Playing Barbie with Lydia.

Radio, after all, is all about being relate able.  I may also touch on the whole having my first sugar filled ice cream in a sugary cone in 7 or 8 months (at least).  I haven’t decided yet.

Speaking of sugar, it looks as though I can actually eat it again.  I’m thankful I have friends who notice things when I don’t because I’m too busy having the sugar crash or anxiety attack to be that aware.  I need to work on that.  Ilanikhan pointed out one day that my sugar crashes, as a general rule, seem to happen when I’m stressing out about something.  If I’m put into a situation where I’m upset, confronted, anxious or whatnot, it triggers the crash and subsequent anxiety attacks.  I get these terrible brain whisperings that exacerbate the situation.  My brain will say things like,

“You don’t deserve love.”

“Don’t get too attached.  [Person] will just leave.”

“You’re not good at your job.”

“You’re fat.  Ugly.  Disgusting to look at.”

“[Person] is angry.  That is your fault.  You fucked up.  Again.”

It’s terrible, it really is.  I know that these things are generally untrue.  And that last one is probably the worst trigger.  Anger is a normal human emotion and can be expressed in healthy ways.  But I was exposed to people who got angry and took it out on everyone or blamed everyone else for it.  So now when people are angry or upset I automatically feel as though it is my fault.  In the last several months, after quitting the drug that is refined sugar, I have less of these thoughts.  I used to have them all the time.

The last time I had problems with my sugar, I was under a shit-tonne of stress at my old job.  My boss would reduce me to tears on a semi-weekly basis.  I’d get chewed out and scape-goated for things that weren’t my doing.  I was doing 1.5 jobs until Disco Stu quit, then I was doing 2 jobs.  I had the starting of an ulcer.  I was a nervous wreck.  Panic attacks.  Depression.  I hid in my apartment and pretty much refused to go anywhere.  I didn’t want to spend time with my friends and spent a fair bit of time alone.  I’ve always enjoyed my “me” time but it got out of hand.  Sometimes, when my anxiety was really high, I refused to answer the phone.  I’d screen calls, check the voice mail and if it sounded important I’d call back.

Exercise helped.  The “eating program” helped.  Probably because it was high protein and low on sugar.  Quitting that job was the most freeing thing in the world.

This time around the stress wasn’t so much from work as it was from my personal interactions with other people.  Girl drama.  Friend drama.  Family drama.  A lot of family drama.  About a month ago, though, I said outloud for the very first time, “I hope God strikes them both with a lightning bolt.” and “I’m fucking angry!”  It was a pretty big moment for me.  I had steadily been going along feeling numb or sad or completely indifferent about the whole situation.  Saying I was angry was very cathartic.

Amazingly, even though I can have sugar, I don’t really want it.  I like not feeling tired all the time.  I like not getting grouchy when I’m withdrawing from it.  Admittedly, another reason I don’t want to start eating it again (aside from all the health benefits) is Lydia.  She’s thrilled I can’t have sugar too, and she’s thrilled she can teach me things (Baroness Barbie taught Sir Thomas about hypoglycemia, and told him to eat 10 almonds because he was being a jerk).  I know it’s tough for  her, and it has been pretty easy for me to give it up, so I’ll keep it up.

It’s strange though.  I was at the store, holding chocolate, and thinking to myself “I don’t want this” and buying some fresh red plums and getting the girl at the counter to cut up some watermelon for me and picking out sweet corn.  Standing in the line to pay for my groceries, the lady ahead was buying glazed donuts stuffed with blueberry jelly and cream.  I used to love that stuff.  Now it just makes me gaggy at the idea of eating it.  Yesterday, I kind of wanted a poutine but I don’t like how they make me feel after I eat them so instead I had something considerably healthier.

It is too freakin’ hot today.  I am going to be able to follow my in-progress schedule (which has workout times).  I am not adhering strictly to it this week simply because I prefer to start on a Monday and go from there.  I did manage to lift weights though.  Yay me!  I did 40 presses.  20 curls.  10 over the head (no idea what they’re called).  A bunch of stuff to work my tummy (situps and these weird leg/butt lift things from Leh’s P90X video).  I will have to google more core exercises this weekend and see what else I can do.  I will endeavor to do more weights when I get home from work.

I’m throwing my hat in the ring for a new job.  I have a good feeling about this one.  I’m trying not to pin my hopes on it but that isn’t going to well.

At work and after work I need to work on my OBN stuff.  I’m doing rather well with my notes.  I need to e-mail Rule Monkey about an updated character sheet.

Right now I need a shower and food.  I’m having an exercise induced sugar crash.  I don’t mind these ones.  They come with the shakes but no brain whispers.

Where Gaynip Rises from the Sleep-Coma

I feel so fantastic right now, like lightning in a bottle.  I did 6k on my bike in 25 minutes at a vigorous pace (with some uphill) in the hardest gear.  I got my heart rate up to 120, and based on the chart, for my age it’s within the optimum range for exercise (anything less than 117/minute means I’m not trying).  I’m happy with that number because a few years ago, I was just walking uphill in snow (fairly good pace and at a somewhat steep incline) and my heart rate was an alarming 200.  200 would have been just over the maximum my heart should ever hit (I turned kind of a purple colour and there was an intense pounding in my ears and behind my eyes).  Amazing what time and a little bit of respect for your body can do.

Google-ing for proper musculature terminology, my quads hurt.  In a good way.  They are rubbery and protest when I stand up.  I was pretty sweaty when I got in from my ride, including forehead sweat.  I consider that to be an indicator of a good workout because I don’t get sweaty-head unless I’m pushing myself.  I need a shower, I probably smell.  Most people wouldn’t be so excited about sweat but I am a lazy sack of a human being who used to think the walk to the fridge counted as exercise.  Hefting that microwavable dinner out, using precious calories ripping the cardboard box open and peeling back the plastic.  With my last ounce of effort, hitting 5 minutes on the microwave and lamenting about how long it takes to cook a TV dinner.  Laziness personified.

My problem these days is fatigue.  I don’t want to go ride my bike because I’m tired but I know that it’s good for me and I’ll feel better for having done it.  It’s just a matter of getting on the bike and going.  If I can at least commit to 9k (what I did in total today) at least 3x per week, that’ll be golden.  The nights I’m not on my bike or the weather isn’t optimal (raining or way too hot for me to be exerting myself) I will lift weights, do some skipping, sit-ups and when the weather gets warm, go swimming.

Today is the second day without sugar crashing.  I got hungry around 9am-ish but haven’t found myself getting shaky, or at least perceptibly so.  I’m tweaking my breakfast routine.  This morning I had half of the rye bread with almond butter, an egg, an ounce of cheese and a cup of coffee.  Breakfast was just shy of 400 calories.  I’m thinking the bigger breakfast is a must for me (what Ilanikhan had been saying all along).  Yesterday, breakfast was much closer to 500 calories.

I’m thinking the fish is really doing wonders (I didn’t have any today) and I should stock up on tuna.  The bummer is that I really like tuna with mayo but that has sugar in it.  I wonder if I can find some without around here.  I did find this recipe for homemade stuff that doesn’t have sugar.  Maybe, while I’m attempting to make high carb pancakes, I will make some mayo.

My plans for the weekend continue to evolve.  I’m still heading down a day early, with family bringing me back to Ottawa for some shopping and then dropping me off at my car which I’ll ditch at Cortejo’s place.  I need to remember to pack some food that I can eat to keep my sugar levels at a tolerable level.  Plus, since I didn’t register, something to eat on Saturday.  I would like to serve at feast anyway, since it’s an opportunity to be social and see people enjoying (or not enjoying – that can be funny – “Jellied fish?”)  the meal.  D really got sick at this feast last year though, so I may just pack a lunch and not worry about it.

I’m looking forward to the event itself.  I’m not sure I’ll get my garb done.  I’m putting it off.  The center gore has me flustered.  I know it’s 10.5 and so many down from the shoulder line.  I know I don’t cut ALL THE WAY UP but I forget the rest.  I don’t want to wreck it all up.  I’m such a wuss.  I was kind of hoping that it would be a little cold this Saturday so I could wear my robes.  [Sigh]  Tomorrow, I will ask Ilanikhan to explain again what parts I’m forgetting and then buckle down and get to work.  Next time, I should take notes.  My brain can’t be trusted after a sugar crash to remember the finer details.

I had to record a few things in my blog for posterity and because they simply make me laugh…

Lynch takes the whole Mob (and myself) to breakfast at Ikea.  He gets little Miss Lydia a blueberry smoothie in a juice box.  The straw is bigger on one end to puncture the box.  I try to explain to her she’s using the wrong end, but she’s 6 and hell bent on doing it her way.  No biggy.  Later, Lynch tells her the same thing and as he’s saying it, the straw disappears into the box.

Me: Why don’t you just suck on the hole?  (That’s what I did when I was a kid…puncture the juice box, throw out the straw and suck on it)

Reyl: [Leaning over and whispering to me]  You are such a lesbian.

I laughed so hard I choked on my home fries.  He’s not allowed to be funny while I’m eating anymore.

Cortejo is driving FinalCut to work on Friday afternoon and they’re having some kind of discussion in the front seat that I’m only half listening to.

Cortejo: [Something something something] …when I hit puberty.  It’s Sarah’s fault.

Me: What?!  I would have been 2!!

The look on her face in the rear view mirror was priceless as we had a good laugh at that.

…Later…

Me: You can blame me for a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure you can’t make something that happened when I was 2 my fault!

Cortejo: I was 14, not 13.  I hit it late.

Me:  Fine.  3.

I really do forget sometimes that we aren’t closer in age.  My guess is because she’s as silly as I am…

Me: You know, between the two of us, we make a whole adult.

My Everything Hurts

My muscles.  My lazy, slack, weak, untrained muscles.

Yesterday, Leh and I did some Wii stuff.  Boxing.  Golf.  Baseball.  Then we put in the Wii Fit and did a few games on that before trudging downstairs to do P90X.  P90X is this uber workout system that pushes you.  It’s intense but works and gets results.  It’s a 7 day a week, 1 hour push of your limits.  I couldn’t do some of the abs stuff.  Leh says I did more than she did her first time around, so that’s got to count for something.  My lower ab muscles need the most work.  I can’t do one of the exercises without lifting my lower back off the floor.

I woke up this morning and my arms felt like T-Rex arms.  Completely useless.  My back muscles even hurt.  I think this is a good sign though.  My abs were fine (unlike last night) until I stepped over the weight bench to get something out of my closet.  Pain is love.  Pain is love.  My body will thank me for all this torture when I’m all smexy and svelt.  Or at least that’s what I’ll tell myself when I start abusing the A535 Sport stick again.  When I declare that my bathtub is the love of my life.

Wii Fit says I gained back 2lbs.  I’m hoping that’s muscle because I’ve been pretty good.  Even at the potluck I didn’t get carried away.  Oh well.  I continue to count what I’m eating and keeping it in the 1600 range.  I’m doing something exercise-ish everyday.

I’m pretty sure Sunday/Monday I was fighting off the start of a cold or something similar.  I felt completely drained.  Sunday I racked out for hours and still managed to go to bed at a decent hour.  I got home from work yesterday really early and put in a load of laundry.  Managed to stay awake to get it in the dryer.  Didn’t stay awake to hear the dryer buzz.  This was kind of my fault.  I was cold, so I wrapped up in a blanket.  I wanted to watch The Golden Girls so I stretched out.  It’s not my fault that Bea Arthur screeching “MA!” lulls me into a peaceful sleep.  I woke up around 2:30ish though, so I didn’t sleep the entire day away.

Rachel came over around 4pm for a drink (she drank) and chit-chat.  Her weekend was an epic fail.  She wanted to be cheered up with a Gaynip story.  I’ve always got a good story.

Oh man, I read this blog this morning on “25 Reasons It’s Great to be Single”.  It was a terrible list.  Don’t even get me started on the issues with your/you’re.  I decided to challenge myself to make a better list that didn’t include things like passing gas/stinking up the bathroom/porn/drinking milk straight from the jug… (and to think this list was written by women!)

  1. No waiting for the shower or bathroom.  Unless you have company or the cats like to take a hot soak, it’s always free.
  2. You eat what you want.
  3. Sleeping in the middle of the bed.  With all the pillows and blankets.
  4. Choosing a movie/tv show/music has never been easier.  If you’re arguing with yourself about any of these things, you need help.  See a doctor.  Now.
  5. Quiet time.
  6. If something bores you, you can stop doing it.  No more feigning interest.
  7. No fighting over who’s turn it is to do a certain chore.  Oh sure, it’s always your turn, but at least there’s no arguing about it.
  8. If something around the house doesn’t get done, no one is going to bitch and moan about it.
  9. You can get drunk on a Tuesday afternoon and not explain yourself to anyone.  (Except maybe your boss, if you should be at work).
  10. Panties.  We all have a few pairs that aren’t so much sexy as they are functional.  They can be worn without shame!
  11. PMS.  You can be a bitch, a cry baby or eat like Kirstie Alley without judgment.
  12. Coming home at 3am.  No explaining where you’ve been, or with whom and what you did.
  13. No one to check in with 18 million times per day via text/email/phone.
  14. You’re always right.  Even when you’re wrong.
  15. It’s okay to eat an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s.
  16. Flirting and checking people out won’t get you into trouble.
  17. If you whip out a new toy during play time, you won’t have to reassure anyone about their performance.
  18. No one can spoil your good mood upon waking up on the wrong side of the bed.  (Unless you’re me, in which case you can actually make your own mood WORSE).
  19. You don’t have to hang out with people you don’t like.  (I once had to spend an entire day with a group of men who’d never met a lesbian before…it was exhausting being nice and pretending like their little comments were witty/funny when what I really wanted to… )
  20. No meeting parents.  That’s always awkward.
  21. Naps.  Anytime.
  22. Comfortable jammies.
  23. None of your friends have to censor themselves.
  24. No explaining why you spent $100 on something called “The Ultra-Pleasure-Vibe-2000”.
  25. No stressing out about gifts.

The one on the other list that makes me wonder is about drinking milk out of the jug thing.  If you’re having sex with someone I don’t understand why drinking from the milk is taboo.  Yes, if you have people over and one of them wants a tall cold glass of milk, that’s an issue.  That’s going to be an issue if you’re drinking from the jug single or not.

I find it amusing that people have to make a list to justify the single life.  I made my list to counter the other list, not because I need to tell myself it’s okay to be single.  It has it’s advantages, and I’m sure if I thought about it I could find 25 reasons why it rocks to be in a relationship.  There are pro’s and con’s to every situation.  Whatever gets you through the day without drawing a nice hot bath and making friends with Slashy McRazorblade, I guess.

D is here today.  I should have purple hair today.  Should.  Photo’s to follow.

Another Goal Down!

Another 101 in 1001 completed!  “#64:  Pick a motto/statement/creed.

It didn’t even dawn on me until this morning that I had one.  I said it a few times over the last week or two and it wasn’t until I said to a few people that I realized, “By jove, I’ve got it!” .   So, the motto I’ve decided on is this:

I do not want that which is not freely given.

Doesn’t matter what that something is.  Doesn’t matter how much I want it.  How much I need it.  If it can’t be given, I refuse to take it.

I had much fun this weekend.  On Friday, I managed to wiggle out of work at 10am to go have breakfast with Rachel and Monkey.  She was hung over and the kiddo was playing hooky because she was tired.  I picked up stuff for the potluck and some hair dye.  Drove to the city to hang out with Cortejo and make pie on a stick.  So yummy.  The cookies weren’t as good as the first time but not that bad.  I really like how they’re not sugary.  Lydia makes me laugh, a lot.  “You know that face doesn’t work on me.”  Too cute.

Saturday started out as a fail.  Everyone was having a rough morning.  I noticed that the truck had a flat.  Okay, no worries.  We’ll pump that sucker back up.  Fail.  The air machine is frozen solid.  Okay.  Let’s try another one.  Cortejo gets all manly and pushes me out of the way and tells me to get us some coffee.  I’m standing at the little island putting in the sugar and cream and this little guy walks in.  He looks really sad, so I smile at him.  He smiles back.  Standing next to me, we have this little exchange about how cold it is and how the air pump was frozen.  Cortejo comes in and exclaims the tire is now completely flat and I should call someone.  I’m pondering who to call.  I’ve got the credit card from work, so it can be done.  The guy (who’s name I guiltily forget now) says he’s got something in his truck to pump the tire and he’d be pleased to do that for us.  He stands there in the cold and pumps the tire up with his handy little rig (which I must purchase).  He was super nice, and I wish I’d had some swag in the truck to give him.  I offered to buy him another coffee and he wouldn’t hear it.

It’s rare to meet people from Ontario who are that nice.  East Coast nice.  I, apparently, have a horseshoe up my arse.  It pays to be kind.

By the time we got it all sorted out, got a giant flower sack sized bag of coffee beans it was time to head back.  We packed up for 12th Night and were on our way.  I had lots of fun and loved wearing my lovely new garb for the first time.  It was nice and warm, a plus, since the room was a bit cold.  The event was lots of fun.  Black Peter’s weapon of flagellation was the Bunny Flail.  I didn’t end up in the cup, but I have it on excellent authority that I’ll be in there next year.  I will never hear the end of what I have done, and will be publicly punished for it.  I deserve it.

Beheading

I think I look more worried about getting my robe dirty than I do about having my head chopped off.

Sunday saw the packing up of the weight bench and moving it home.  Jesus that thing is heavy.  I got a trickle of a nose bleed carrying it in.  Now, I did get a nose bleed 12 hours earlier.  And I did have a massive headache.  And I was seeing spots.  I think it was just body fail.  I got it all in.  It’s mostly set up.  I need to tighten some bolts.  I don’t think I’ll put the leg things on.  I don’t have room for them.  The weights are in the living room.  I’m not moving them until I decide exactly where the bench is going to stay.  I think it’s a bad sign I already threw laundry on it.  I’m going to use it, I am.  I swear to Gay I am.  I just had to move a bunch of stuff around and…nevermind.

D was supposed to come down today but Mav’ needed the car since the truck was literally frozen to the ground.  By tomorrow night I shall have purple hair.  May also have hair loss, chemical burns and temporary loss of vision.  Bleach kit in the hands of amateurs.  Dangerous.

We had a very important talk this morning.  We’ve been having a lot of those, but this was the most important of them all.  I was worried but we are even keeled and she’s happy I’m happy.  That’s what real friendship is.  You may not agree with the choices your friends make, but you love them anyway.  That’s how it goes.  That’s real friendship.  <3

I Dream of Rain…

Last night Leh picked me up on her way home from work so we could start working out.  We decided to do a bit with the Wii Fit.  Don’t mock the video game console.  Do not.  They weren’t fooling around with this thing.  They measure everything you’re doing and grade you on it.  They make you work all kinds of muscles.  They work on your balance.  Mine is terrible.  My abs hurt this morning.

Best game on Wii Fit is Soccer.  You’ve got to head butt the balls, shifting weight from one leg to the other in order to get them on the left, right, center.  To add to the game, sometimes cleats come off.  Sometimes it’s not a ball, sometimes it’s a panda head.  You get points for consecutive head butts, lose points for shoes and heads.  Awesome game.

Leh had me beat at every game except the hola hoop ones.  I rocked at the hoop and unlocked the super challenge.  I’m a hip swiveling demon.  If only I could parley this skill into dancing.  My abs hurt.

My biceps are killing me this morning from all the push-ups.  There is a great debate about them.  Leh says I’m doing them wrong.  Mav’ says I’m not doing them THAT poorly and that I’m not strong enough to do them 100% the right way, so I should keep doing them the way I can to build strength.  Something’s working.  I’ve noticed that my biceps are a little bigger in the last couple of weeks.  I want to do them right but I’m not strong enough.  My tummy “muscles” aren’t strong enough.

qLike says that if I want to lose weight I should do it the proper way.  Have lots of calorie burning sex.  Who am I to argue?  He is a doctor.  On the radio.  Or at least he’d like to be.

When I got home I was exhausted and sweaty but instead of jumping into the shower I started to work on Goal #27 “Learn to meditate or do yoga (something to calm me down)“.  I printed out a bunch of different meditation techniques.  The one I went with was bodyscan.  You lay down (or sit if you prefer) and relax, breath deeply.  Once you’re relaxed, you start focusing on your forehead (the skin there), the tingling, then move downward to the different parts of your body.  It was really strange.  I managed 15 minutes but my brain kept drifting to different thoughts.  I had to reel it back in.  There was a few minutes towards the end where my brain shut up and the spot between my eyebrows started to feel strange.  It tingled, pretty intensely.  Then I could feel the tingling in my shoulders, dancing along my collarbone.  Then Meeko jumped on the bed and stuck his wet nose on my temple.  Next time, door shut.

After that, I tried a little hypnosis.  I used to practice this a lot a few years ago when my last job was stressing me out.  Amazingly, my ‘happy place’ has changed.  My happy place is a lush forest.  More like the ones you find on the west coast with towering cedars, where the soil is rich and there’s that really intense smell of…?  I don’t know how to describe it.  It’s raining, there’s a creek.  I can see myself there, completely drenched but oddly warm.  I can feel the water trickling down my face, droplets gathering at the end of my nose.  I can feel the soil under my feet, between my toes.  The rain is hitting the canopy of leaves and I can hear thunder roll in the distance.

I guess it makes  sense that the happy place has changed since I’m not the same person I was 3 years ago by any stretch.  At first I kept trying to fight the new happy place.  I’m standing on the beach but behind me is the woods.  Instead of picturing myself laying in the sand, I picture myself walking up the beach and into the woods.  I’d think, “No!  No!  Wrong.”  I stopped fighting it and just went where the image took me.  I like it.  It’s peaceful.

I had a dream last night,  I can only remember fuzzy bits and pieces.  I’m with someone I know.  She is trying to get me to walk through a door.  Not in a forceful way, but like a gentle coaxing.  There are reassurances.  I can’t make out the words but I can hear the tone of her voice (soft, melodic, the way one might talk to a scared child or animal), her posture, the look on her face that’s what’s going on.  It’s raining but I can’t tell if it’s on my side of this archway or hers.

I woke up before anything else could happen.  It was almost 2am.  It took me a while to get back to sleep after that.

Did I mention my abs hurt?

Exercise: The Death of Gaynip

Last night, I decided to walk another 6km (on top of the 2km I usually do), 4 elevated push-ups and 30 sit-ups.  I have come to realize a few things:

  • I have wet noodle girl arms.
  • The only way I can run is if a pack of wild dogs are chasing me because someone has soaked my pants in meat.
  • I have callouses in the shape of Florida and Italy respectively.  Odd.
  • I am afraid to take off my boots/socks after the walk in to work.
  • It is way easier to lay on the couch watching reruns of The Golden Girls than it is to get into shape.
  • I don’t think it’s normal to turn purple and see spots.  Nor is it normal for my heart to match the beat of an American High School drum line.
  • I get the distinct impression that Basic Training will require a lot of crying, swearing and praying to any deity that will listen.
  • I am possibly the only person in existence that got tennis elbow from lifting weights.
  • Office Mom is right…if I die, no one will notice for a week.  By the time they find me it’ll be like Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Black Cat”.  Depressing.
  • Is this what Kirstie Alley goes through every time she lifts her own gigantic arm and feeds herself instead of letting the motorized fork do the work?

In all seriousness, this is going to be the hardest thing I have ever done.  If you’d asked me that 9 months ago, you would have most definitely received a different answer.

I have caved this morning and had a cup of coffee.  The teapot didn’t auto-shut off and boiled up my water.  As I was standing there with an air of disappointment, Smelly Man tempted me with a cup of mocha java.  I know I said I wasn’t going to drink coffee at work anymore, and that I was cutting way-way-way back…and I have.  But it was just to enticing.  I’m still riding the soda-pony as well.  Dutchess said to me a while back, “I thought you were giving up coffee and pop.” to which my reply was, “I can’t.  I just can’t do it.  I can give up coffee, but I can’t give up pop.  I haven’t had sex in forever, frankly I think the Pepsi Max is what is keeping me sane an anchored.”  I’m only human!  This morning I had this terrifying thought, “What if sex falls into that whole, ‘If you don’t use it you lose it’ category.”  Oh God.

On a semi-related note, the Cougar who’s been stalking me for months is insane.  She messaged me the other night while I was watching “Zombieland” (awesome!) and asked if I was busy.  I wasn’t.  She didn’t reply right away and I noticed the kitchen light flickering, so I went and changed the bulb.  I was gone 2 minutes, tops.  She freaks out.  “I guess you’re not interested have a nice life.  I hope you find what you’re looking for.”  Jesus H. Christ.  I was gone 2 minutes.  Then, she throws in there as some kind of a barb that she hates how I repeat the time.  That Aaron used do to that and when someone pointed out how annoying it was, he stopped.  First off, yes Aaron was a big market hot shot.  Aaron also got fired and no longer works in radio.  Second, why do women feel the need to be real See-You-Next-Tuesday’s when things don’t go their way with relationships (or in this case a potential one).  I mean, honestly, are we still in elementary school?  I was waiting for a follow up, “stupid head!” but alas never got it.

I found a new blog this morning we are going to make mention of on the show.  I’ve added it to my blogroll, it’s called “The Problem with Young People Is…” and I gotta say, I agree with this crotchety old man.  Maybe I am an old soul.  I love his Wish List the most…I’d love to see young people wearing uniforms.  An end to things like exposed tramp stamps, thongs/boxers, anything that says “Thug Life” and hats with the unbent brims/stickers on em (cause apparently the cool thing is to look like you stole the hat).

Sometimes the best part of my workday is that my chair swivels.

Might be in the City today.  Leh is looking for a reason to take a trip up to the city.  I think I’ll go along for the ride.  Maybe I can do some shopping while she’s in her meeting.

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