I shampooed yesterday, finishing with cream rinse. That, people, is what they call old school.
Drinking now: shitty day old coffee over ice with sugar-free Hazelnut flavored syrup and fat free half & half. To those I have just disappointed, I apologize.
Which route to walk today? The five-miler, four-and-a-halfer, or sixer? My left foot keeps twitching into a cramp in a proactive protest of sorts. Whoa--the right foot just joined in. Now that's solidarity.
Our pet bunny is hopping around the living room, working on eating the drapes, carpet and spider plant. We have hermit crabs too. They do not get time out of their cage. Life. Is. Not. Fair.
Yesterday, a guy on a motorcycle passed me on Interstate 90. I was doing about 70. He was a young thing, muscled and lean. His filmy tee shirt was billowing up in the draft of his speed. Some sort of tent--or maybe raingear--was strapped to his luggage rack. He drove with one hand on the handlebars, the other curled around his left thigh. No helmet, tennis shoes. A holster outfitted with a handgun was slung over his hips.
Think I'll make pizza for dinner tonight.
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