I promise, PROMISE! that this post will be under 3,000 words. Because, as the long forgotten prophet Sweet Brown exclaimed as she fled the fiery flames cast upon her dwelling by Satan’s Bronchial Demons, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”
Tag Archives | doing stuff
Water on The Brain
I’m trying to get back to normal posting, outdoor activities, and photography after two months of watching and shooting B play his junior season of (dystopian) high school soccer. I think the unintelligible, manic-like word vomit disguised as photo tips in my last post may have been my way of dealing with that, and the realization that there’s not much to look forward to over the next six to seven months that doesn’t have the word “tentative” attached to it.
Recent Me, Macro Monday
I would love to use a phrase like “I’m back to my old self again,” but not only would that be incorrect, it would also be a less than desirable outcome. Old me is a jagoff. At least I thought so; I think “recent” me (past few years) is in a way better place than old me.
However, in the context of how I feel mentally compared to this time last week, and to my month-long flirtation with the 0.1 lifestyle, I am indeed getting back to my old self again. Still a jagoff in my own way, but that—along with my AutoZone guy/dad on a beer bender physique and sophomoric, rapier wit— is part of my unique charm, right? RIGHT?? OK, forget it.
Baby Steps™
This week started off HORRIBLE, but progressively got better-ish. Still, I’m glad to see it almost over.
Malachi Crunched
I warned you that my mood and blogging hiatus might not last long, and it didn’t. Sorry.
Pack It All In/Macro Monday
Having a plan on Friday proved useless, so I entered Saturday planless and brainless. In other words, it was just me being me.
I was up around 8 for coffee, toast, and a couple of dippy eggs before lubing up Mr. Burgundy (not code for sex) and getting my shit together for a quick ride in the rapidly warming morning sun.
The Trees Win
Say what you want about the necessity, value, and quality of the—went on a bit too long—Soiled Chamois mini-shit show entitled The Quarantine Chronicles, it motivated me to write. Now, not so much.
Surprised Legs
I don’t always ride two days in a row, but when I do, I make sure it’s the only two days I ride all week.
Random Present & Futures
Someday this will all be over. Eventually, I will wake up in the morning and know what day it is, and care what day it is. Someday the country won’t be a polarized and divided dumpster fire, and the name of the orange fuck face in the White House will just be a despicable footnote in the pretty darn, not bad history of our country.
Until that day comes, I will keep doin’ what I do to make life fun: ride bikes, take photos, hike trails, love my wife and kid, watch the footy, drink beer, and make food.
Sighs, Rubs, & Pulls
I don’t know, man [rubs gelatinous, stubbled cheeks, then eyes, followed by a pull of unkempt hair]. I haven’t been on my bike since Friday, and I don’t know whether I’m happy, moderately upset, almost sad, or not giving a shit about it.