Okay, note to self: if you sleep at, say, three in the morning, and for some screwed up reason, your body decides to wake you up, fresh and alert, at five thirty two bloody hours later, you can instantly assume that your body is indeed crazy, and is lying to you through it's teeth.
Here's what happened. I slept at three after enjoying a heartbreakingly beautiful movie called Magnolia (which, if you haven't had the pleasure of viewing the film as of your reading of this humbled text, should shame you into submission and prod - nay, drop kick you into finding a copy of it as fast as you can). It was an honestly good night, considering how last week was like; and I think I slept like a baby.
That is, until I opened my eyes, feeling fresh and wired, fists at the ready to tackle whatever linebackers the week decides to throw my way.
It was five thirty-two in the morning.
Since I didn't usually wake up this early in the morning, I decided to go and give the apartment a good beating - that is, I went around and tidied up what needed tidying up, kicking some of the resident spiders out of town, and dusting my small-but-steadily-growing library. Then I had some breakfast, a modest bowl of oatmeal with flakes of cheese, and a cup of coffee.
And then I went to the computer, sat down, and worked a bit on a short story. Around thirty minutes later, the water delivery boys (one had a new haircut) arrived for my weekly fix, and after they left, I did some stretching and went on my thirty-minute run.
When I finished with my routine, it was nearly twelve in the afternoon. I decided to go into town and eat lunch out. I needed to pick up my laundry, anyway. All nine kilograms of it.
Let me tell you something about lugging nine kilos of laundry uphill for around fifteen minutes. If it didn't come in even the most rudimentary of backpacks, something that you can rely the good ole dorsal to handle with ease, and instead was ceremoniously wrapped in two layers of XXL garbage bags, bless the owners of the laundromat, you will have one of two things, if not both:
Here's what happened. I slept at three after enjoying a heartbreakingly beautiful movie called Magnolia (which, if you haven't had the pleasure of viewing the film as of your reading of this humbled text, should shame you into submission and prod - nay, drop kick you into finding a copy of it as fast as you can). It was an honestly good night, considering how last week was like; and I think I slept like a baby.
That is, until I opened my eyes, feeling fresh and wired, fists at the ready to tackle whatever linebackers the week decides to throw my way.
It was five thirty-two in the morning.
Since I didn't usually wake up this early in the morning, I decided to go and give the apartment a good beating - that is, I went around and tidied up what needed tidying up, kicking some of the resident spiders out of town, and dusting my small-but-steadily-growing library. Then I had some breakfast, a modest bowl of oatmeal with flakes of cheese, and a cup of coffee.
And then I went to the computer, sat down, and worked a bit on a short story. Around thirty minutes later, the water delivery boys (one had a new haircut) arrived for my weekly fix, and after they left, I did some stretching and went on my thirty-minute run.
When I finished with my routine, it was nearly twelve in the afternoon. I decided to go into town and eat lunch out. I needed to pick up my laundry, anyway. All nine kilograms of it.
Let me tell you something about lugging nine kilos of laundry uphill for around fifteen minutes. If it didn't come in even the most rudimentary of backpacks, something that you can rely the good ole dorsal to handle with ease, and instead was ceremoniously wrapped in two layers of XXL garbage bags, bless the owners of the laundromat, you will have one of two things, if not both:
- an increased heart rate
- a throbbing pain in and around your arms
and to think I used to lug a bottle of water up around the same distance a few months back. I cannot express in words how thankful I am for the Aqua Prime wonder twins.
I think my day went downhill from there. The heat around the time I left for the office was more than enough to make sure that I arrived at the office with a fresh coat of lovely sweat that kinda worked rather badly with the formal wear we had to put on every Monday.
Now here I am, at the office, just counting the minutes til quitting time, so that I could get home, kill myself with whatever exercise I have left for today (Monday is muscle training day oh boy).
My bed shall embrace me like a lost lover tonight. I can feel it.
I think my day went downhill from there. The heat around the time I left for the office was more than enough to make sure that I arrived at the office with a fresh coat of lovely sweat that kinda worked rather badly with the formal wear we had to put on every Monday.
Now here I am, at the office, just counting the minutes til quitting time, so that I could get home, kill myself with whatever exercise I have left for today (Monday is muscle training day oh boy).
My bed shall embrace me like a lost lover tonight. I can feel it.