Today passed quickly. It occurred to me earlier I’ve reached equilibrium again. I’m comfortable, which means it’s time to shake things up. I don’t want to become weak. I’m going to sleep on it, and decide tomorrow what to do. On the physical side, I’ve been maintaining my upper body strength with daily pushups and 5 lb. barbels. I remember speaking with an old classmate at a wellness center about arm definition. It was one of those situations where someone touched me unexpectedly, and I mentally took a giant step backward and booted into safe mode. (Fortunately, I can play it back in my head after I recover. ) It was the first time I ever thought about arm definition. She asked me about my workout, stating she was seeking my arm definition. I don’t think I responded, much to my chagrin.
Now that I just pondered how I would have answered her, it’s probably better I just stood there. I have a horrible history of saying things that are politically incorrect without realizing it. Like… When someone asked me if I ever thought about getting a tattoo, my response was, “But I’m already colored in.” In my defense, I’m not disrespectful to people with brown skin. On an entirely unrelated note; I have brown skin. It’s more an issue of speaking. While I sometimes struggle to maintain the ability, nevertheless, I still do it more than I should, often before thinking first. The older I get, the more I recognize nothing is often the best thing to say.
I’m on the 3rd book of The Magicians trilogy by Lev Grossman. It’s love at first novel, although the second in the trilogy is better. I might check out the TV show just to see how someone else imagined it. You know how every so often you come across a story that feels as if it was created just for you? It’s like an inside joke with someone you’ve never met. The last novel that delighted me on this level was Ready Player One by Ernest Cline. I’m going to read something without rivets or dragons next. I haven’t picked yet. Probably something by John Irving. I still think about Lupe from Avenue of Mysteries often. I reread everything he writes multiple times. He’s my American Dickens. I’m off to read.