My post COVID creep back into the world started on Wednesday with a short “Last Day of Quarantine” solo hike in the woods of the Sylvan Preserve. Then, I made it official on Thursday when I returned to the cold, sagging, well-milked bosom of society with a trip to Meijer to buy groceries. It was all very anti-climatic and soon forgotten.
NOTE: ALL POST-ILLNESS UPDATES ARE LOCATED BELOW
It’s been a month since I felt the need to post anything here; I apologize in advance for now breaking that silence like a wet fart birthed from betweenst the cheeks of that angry wino that hangs out on the corner of Roosevelt and Bluff.
It’s been about three weeks since I last posted anything here and 7 weeks or more since I posted anything that I actually cared about writing, and even that is debatable.
What was that I said about things staying the same?
So far, my September has been better than my August was, but that’s not to say that I feel all pantsless and fancy-free.
It’s been about 10 days since our bank account was pillaged by nefarious fucktards, and other than the process of working with the bank to get our money back, I can think about little else right now.
Oh, Saturday, how I remember you. I did a 22.5-mile dirt road ride from the house and sweat my balls off. I also hit one of my first weight-loss goals (-20 lbs). It was a good day. That lasted until about 11 AM.
This all seems very familiar to me. And by “this,” I mean writing a post about something I did 2 days ago and now having little desire to write about. And not just because it wasn’t that interesting!
Yet, I still write. Sorry.
My Monday was filled with all the business that Monday brings, so I was confined to the Dreadmill™ for 3 miles of lumbering and sweating my ass off to the latest techno “hits” featuring “a good beat that you can dance to,” all the while trying not to fall off the damn thing to become another sad A.A.R.P. treadmill statistic.
For better or worse, I was on a bit of a roll with posting. Then I didn’t for a few days; now I don’t know where to begin. Shit.
From what I can remember, I’ve been balls deep into watching my food intake and working out every single blessed goddamn day like I’m an Olympian as I try to lose the weight that so cleverly attached itself to me via years of being on the antidepressant hamster wheel.
There has been no ride since my last ride. That’s a bummer, but I’ve tried to keep moving with six nine miles of Dreadmill lumbering over the past two three days. Me walking/jogging on a treadmill is not exactly blog-worthy1, but as I so often say here on these ill-written digital pages of digital suck, “yet here we are.”
