I don’t know what to write today. I’m tired, which isn’t unusual. I had an epic nap, which involved a terrible dream (Buddy took me to some kind of fair thing, we were winning prizes by riding down a long, low-ceiling slide, then we had to drive to the next event and the semis in behind and in front of us lost control and we almost died,and then the prizes weren’t even that good and my car was scratched all down the side…). I read the first four chapter’s of Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave. Ugh. I’m too tired to be this angry, so I’m just going to put it off until tomorrow. Being angry in class is so much more rewarding.
We had salmon for dinner, which was a bit of an ordeal. We haven’t ever cooked it before and so we followed the bag instructions, sort of. It was tasty, though a little dry and bland. Next time, we’re going to marinade it and bake it, see if that helps.
I also had that appointment that women don’t like to talk about, wherein I suffered a few compliments. I shouldn’t brag because my genes might hear and kick in, but they were surprised that I don’t work out. They were probably just trying to distract me with flattery, and it worked.
No, I don’t work out any more. I hate running, I don’t like the gym, and I have very little self-discipline when it comes to doing things I don’t want to do. What’s my secret? I lean toward healthier foods, keep my proportions small, and I go to school on a campus that requires a vigorous 10-minute walk from my car to class every day. And I have good genes, haven’t had children and spent my early twenties in the Army, ruining my joints with running and push-ups.
As I get older, my metabolism is going to slow and my body is going to settle into the shape it will want to remain at for the rest of my life. My lazy health program is going to start failing me. I guess I need to start walking again. Le sigh.
This isn’t a cry for motivation or help or advice. I’m just vamping, too tired to censor, obviously.