Yesterday I was a little under, today I’m fighting the urge to go get some chocolate from the vending machine. Ohh sweet forgiving yielding loving chocolate. But I intend to hold out at least until the weekend so I’m saving points for the long stretch.
Yes! Our work week is shaping up thusly: tomorrow is our “Organization Day” – office picnic. I will bring my camera and get lots of snaps of hunky servicemen doing various kinds of sports, if you’d like. (And why wouldn’t you?)
Friday is a “DONSA” (Day Of No Scheduled Activity, used to be called a ‘training holiday’) so the Soldiers are all gone and we’ll probably be let out early (I’m coming in late from having a follow up blood letting in the morning) and Friday’s Independence Day (Observed). So things are starting to wind down…right this moment.
What’s strange is that about now I sit and revel in the slowing down but about 30 minutes from now, which will be about 30 minutes before I’m due to leave, I’ll start to panic about all the things I’ve not done. Gasp! I must make lists! I must do this! I must do that!
But I’m working up the “oomph” to go work out (yesterday’s work out was dismal – I forgot my headphones so no Real Housewives or Bear Grylls (nude or otherwise) or even edifying Fitness Rocks podcast. And there was no eye candy – not a bit. (Oh, how I wish I found black guys sexy – I was the only white male there.) I only managed to knock out thirty minutes. Came home and watched TV and ate C’s delicious salad – with tuna and avocado. Mmmm good.
Tonight after the gym I have to get gasoline/petrol or I won’t make it home. I hate when this happens, as much as I hate coming home from work and gym, only to find I have to go back out again for this or that errand. Well, hate’s a strong word. Dislike.
We’re still waiting breathlessly for the next installment of Handsome Hunks of Home Improvement, so we’ll take a few more looks at Nick Beyeler, who probably (a) isn’t scoping out male eye candy (b) does a lot more than thirty minutes of cardio and (c) can’t help but look sexy at the gym. All in utter contrast to me.
(Sometimes, one is just speechless.)