I am eating dinner out of my desk drawer again. That can’t be a good sign. Not quite as bad as it sounds, I make dinner, put it on a plate and open the desk drawer and balance the plate on the open drawer. I have a roll of paper towel and a box of tissues for accidents… Okay fine. It is as bad as it sounds.
On the plus side I have been to the gym 5 times in the last 8 days. And today was the first day I thought I actually might survive severe lactic acid poisoning. A sentence which makes no sense at all if you aren’t an athlete, and even less sense if you are a scientist because the latest is that the pain isn’t from lactic acid build up in the muscles – it’s from micro tears. Nice huh?
Now I need to bang my head against the keyboard for who knows how long tonight as I am the finalist in a big contract job writing a funny game for a big company. So. I must be funny. I must be funny almost right now. I must be funny and not think about whether I can get a leave from my day job or manage both at the same time or, or, or. Haven’t got the job offer yet Schmooopie.
Good day thou despite a rocky start self-esteem wise. Don’t know why entirely but was very crabby needy writer chick from time I hung up with Hoosie last night until further blows to writing ego this AM. Crawled out the abyss eventually. Wrote something good for work. And something funny for me and got an email from the Cossack. Yessiree. For those of you new to my adventures, or those of you who have forgotten this is one of the hottest guys that I’ve made laugh in years. Like smokin’. And if he only loves me for my funny? What the hell, it’s more than nothin’, ain’t it?
Showing posts with label fitness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fitness. Show all posts
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Okay Universe, Here’s the Deal
I went to the gym AGAIN today. I got off my big white flabby voluminous writer's ass and went to the gym. Again. Another 20 magnificent minutes logged on the old elliptical thank you very much. For those of you keeping score, (and I sure am, I have a spreadsheet) that is 4 times in 6 days. But seriously, here’s the deal.
In addition to all the wonderful health and beauty benefits that my gym time is going to send me, not to mention the increase in income (It is a well documented fact that people who lose weight and get in shape get raises and more job opportunities), there is just one little extra thing you’re going to be throwing my way.
For every gym trip I earn the right to a big juicy kiss from a really hot guy. That’s right. My gym trips are my account with the universe and for every one I deposit I’m getting a big juicy kiss from a really hot guy. Hey, or guys, I could go with that too. And you know what Universe? I’ll even let you pick ‘em out for me – I trust you to choose well. I won’t even be demanding about when they arrive or if they come one at a time or in big bunches. But come they will. That’s the deal.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
The Perfect Man List Part II
Hello Lactic Acid my Old Friend.
Yeah, I’ve missed you. And yet here you are again delivering your message of intra-muscular love with all the intensity of youthful passion. Ow. Just because I know you’ll all be so fascinated by the process of a computer bound writer daring to step away from the keyboard and resurrect her once significant athletic prowess. Ow. For the record though all 656 or 850 muscles in this human body are speaking loudly. And hey, how can it be the 21st century and we still can’t figure out how many muscles are in the human body? What’s that about? Can academics really NEVER agree? Lock yourselves in a room kids and duke it out. The world needs a definitive answer to this burning question.
Whoooosh. I had to use the word “burning’ didn’t I? But I digress, now there’s a surprise. Yes my knees ache a bit as do the biceps and the hands but the winner in the “how loud can muscles scream” competition today are the Latissimus Dorsi and Trapezius along with the associated Thoracolumbar Fascia. In short, I need a back rub. The Ibuprofen and the hot bath can only do so much. I need a man’s strong hands to get back there and do some serious work.
Fine, a thought which leads me back to the serious work of the day the Qualities of My Perfect Man list Part II.
He must enjoy to give and receive frequent massages.
Though there have been a few aspirants over the years the crown still belongs to The Fiancée. Who it should be pointed out was seriously in doubt of making this list at all until the tide of Lactic Acid and the concomitment memory of just how good he was at the art of massage. And he loved doing it too. Mind you it was part of his training in physical education and if memory serves one of the few classes he actually bothered to attend.
So there you go, he has to be able to play this body like a piano. Which, come to think of it maybe should be a separate line-item. I’m going to go away now and soak my hands in hot water and think about that a bit.
Yeah, I’ve missed you. And yet here you are again delivering your message of intra-muscular love with all the intensity of youthful passion. Ow. Just because I know you’ll all be so fascinated by the process of a computer bound writer daring to step away from the keyboard and resurrect her once significant athletic prowess. Ow. For the record though all 656 or 850 muscles in this human body are speaking loudly. And hey, how can it be the 21st century and we still can’t figure out how many muscles are in the human body? What’s that about? Can academics really NEVER agree? Lock yourselves in a room kids and duke it out. The world needs a definitive answer to this burning question.
Whoooosh. I had to use the word “burning’ didn’t I? But I digress, now there’s a surprise. Yes my knees ache a bit as do the biceps and the hands but the winner in the “how loud can muscles scream” competition today are the Latissimus Dorsi and Trapezius along with the associated Thoracolumbar Fascia. In short, I need a back rub. The Ibuprofen and the hot bath can only do so much. I need a man’s strong hands to get back there and do some serious work.
Fine, a thought which leads me back to the serious work of the day the Qualities of My Perfect Man list Part II.
He must enjoy to give and receive frequent massages.
Though there have been a few aspirants over the years the crown still belongs to The Fiancée. Who it should be pointed out was seriously in doubt of making this list at all until the tide of Lactic Acid and the concomitment memory of just how good he was at the art of massage. And he loved doing it too. Mind you it was part of his training in physical education and if memory serves one of the few classes he actually bothered to attend.
So there you go, he has to be able to play this body like a piano. Which, come to think of it maybe should be a separate line-item. I’m going to go away now and soak my hands in hot water and think about that a bit.
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