Hyperbole and Birds

It’s April 17th, and we Michiganders remain slung over a barrel with our snow pants down to our ankles as the rhythmic slapping of relentless ice, snow, and wind continues.

B’s school is closed for the second day in a row, and I haven’t been in the saddle of my bike in 5 days. In fact, no stuff has been done in nearly 5 days: weights go unlifted, the treadmill remains stagnant, and the pedals of my trainer bike remain in the same position which I left them weeks months ago. Running shoes and hiking boots remain closeted, and my mind has deteriorated into a vile mushy substance usually scraped off the bottoms of shoes while muttering obscenities and trying not to inhale.

Other than to get the mail and put out more bird feed, I believe I have only left the house twice since last Friday afternoon; both times to go for some groceries. I guess you could say that the Michigan winter has broken me. Again, for the 232nd time.

The highlight of the past few days was photographing birds in the backyard. Birds that, like me, would like to know just what the fuck is up with this shit weather!!

The weather goofs say that by this time next week we’ll be in the 50s and 60s, but I will believe that when I see it.

Time to go feed the birds.

EDIT: After a good dose of fat shaming, I finally forced myself down to the Not-So-Stankment for 3 miles of interval running on the treadmill.  As per usual, I’m happy I did it, and even happier to have a small bowl of whole wheat pasta, with grape tomatoes and olives. Nothing comforts me like some pasta.

Little bowl of comfort. #CrushPasta #Cat5Cooking


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