More of That Word

The same, the same, the same, the same, the same. Some days, everything feels the goddamn fucking same. Pardon that language, but some days everything truly does feel the same. Until it doesn’t. But then it’s back to the same. Know-what-I-mean?

As blathered about in the two most recent posts, the same can be pretty darn OK sometimes. That was then, and this is now. And the grey winter days that seem to be one long Groundhog-ian Day can go have large amounts of sex with themselves. I’ve officially reached the “take a hostage” part of the Michigan winter.

OK, I realize that was all a bit much, but I needed to get that off my chest. I also realized that I don’t know what good taking a hostage would do. Or the hows and who’s of said hostage-taking. I think I just imagine me doing a lot of violent Al Pacino circa Dog Day Afternoon-like screaming, gesticulating (with a weapon I don’t own), and sweating in the general direction of whoever might be the cause of all this sameness.


Having said all of that, we did get some mild change in the form of an appearance by the sun over the weekend. Snow and ice still litter central Michigan, but at least there was a hint of spring in the air.

So into that sun, I went for another snowshoe around the Sylvan Preserve and took a few pics along the way. I also took some change into my own hands and mixed up my lunchtime routine by introducing a flaxseed pita pizzas that come in at just 160 calories per pizza. As always, I’m eatin’ good and working out, but still drinking beer and remaining fat. Some things stay the same, whether there’s sun or not; c’est la vie, bitches.


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