Serves me right I suppose. Well, something has been served to me anyway, and all too often. Had to put on ye-olde-business-suit today for the first time in almost a year, and the first thing out of my mouth was an invocation to the excrement gods. Holy merde! It took – ooph – a lot of persuasion to make the button kiss that button hole.
How did this happen? Rewind, rewind.
Something to be said in favor of a stressful office job – it kept me thin. Lots of running and hiking to shed the events of the day. Hiking and running still figure in, but now sans stress, not with the same fervor, the same life and death concentration.
Plus, all Snickers aside, blue cheese has loved me often and all too well.
Can I live without a concrete schedule? No, apparently, I cannot. Writing, writing daily has nourished the spirit, but what do you know, it has nourished the body as well.
So I’m dropping food like a bad habit. Like a bad habit? It is a bad habit. And amping the running. Funny thing is, friends must have seen this global expansion, but said nothing. Remember, friends of mine, sometimes it is kind to be cruel.
There are many occasions to which the human spirit does not plan to rise, does not even see as a possibility on the horizon. Building a raft and sailing the Pacific, for example. Or sit ups.
(Add end dumb y) A friend of mind just sent me this link. That's the last banana split he gets at my place.