This is the first part of a two part series detailing the events of the past two weeks.
I stayed up until 2am last night playing computer games and listening to music. I woke up at 9 this morning and ate oatmeal.
I pulled out the sewing machine and repaired my hand wraps. I did some spring maintenance on the bikes. Then I did my 5 minutes of horse stance to warm up, then stretched while chatting with night__watch and neeuqdrazil.
Then, at noon, I sprung into action. The first ten minutes of my workout was a swift ride through Mt. Pleasant cemetary in my gym clothes with my leather biker jacket and combat boots. OnceI arrived at the gym, I pounded my way through a very thorough and much needed. workout. The middle-aged blonde physical trainer stopped me and asked me about my kung fu. I suspect I've caught her checking out my ass before.
It was around 2:30 by the time I left the gym with a chocolate and peanut butter protein shake in hand. I locked my bike up at St. Clair and headed south on the subway to Bloor, where I hit the Bay. I got Zil's watch battery replaced, and bought a new watch for myself; mine's been broken for a month. I haven't had time befroe todfay to go get it replaced.
Then, to mensware. I picked up two pairs of jeans that actually fit, three black t-shirts, since it's that time again, and a couple short sleeved work shirts, including one that's basically a Pete shirt, but black.
Upstairs, I got socks, underwear, and a sleeveless t-shirt thing that looked really good on the model in the photo. After paying for all this, I noticed a hat. I tired on the hat. I liked it, and so, I now have a hat. I thought to myself, "hey this would go well with my new waxed cotton trenchcoat!" After buying the hat, I realise dhtat his was not an accidnet; they're both made by the same company. The saleswoman coplimented me on the hat after I'd already bought it, which I have chosen to take as evidence that at least one person thinks that I can look good in a hat.
Finished at the Bay, I walked north to what is, apparently, the largest Canadian Tire in the nation. I bought 4 metal O rings, and five "security snaps". I then walked up to the new Summerhill LCBO.
That place is a heavan on Earth. They have everything. I got lost a few times in there. they have $500 bottle of scotch. I was drooling. One my way out, I noticed a sample counter giving away samples of Glen Breton whisky, the Canadian Scotch. It's quite good; competitve with similarly priced Scottish Whiskys. They tired to sell me some contraption to seal my bottles with argon gas, but I was more interested in the whisky. I passed on the Glen Breton, but I did pick up some beer for tonight. Which I am now drinking; Old Irish Rogue, and Duke Wellington Imperial Stouts, both strong and blacker than a witch's teat.
Then, I hopped on the subway amd got my bike from St. Clair, and glided home at about 5pm., my new hat precariously perched on my head.
Arriving home, I checked LJ, etc, and then got on with my Project. I spent the time from about 6 until 8:40 making a carrying bag for my fighting sticks. I am very happy with the results. It looks like some klind of bizarre bondage device, all black fabric and gleaming silver rings. It even has an adjustable shoulder strap, and straps atatched in the middle, so I can tie it tight to keep the sticks from rattling around. It was a sudden burst of creativity, something I haven't had the time or energy for in along time. For once, everything just Worked; even when I realised that I had stitched shurt the loop for the tie at the top, I reached into my tool kit and pulled out a strip of velcro I'd forgotten I had, and pu tthat on instead. It was just the right size.
I was in a totally manic state, swearing at my sewing machine (with an irish accent, for some reason; keep in mind, this was before the beer), eyes gleaming, and everything just flying into place. When I was done, it was 8:40, and I'd forgotten to eat. I'd had nothing since the protein shake at 2:30. the grocery store closes at 9, so I threw on my jacket, and some boots, and my hat, and stormed off to the store, where I quickly grabbed stuff for dinner, and breakfast tomorrow.
Dinner was prepared with the same feverish, unceasing energy, and I quickly had myself a large plate of hot meat tortellini with carrot bits and peas, tossed with butter, parmasagne and chicken bovril concentrate. And a tall glass of Old Irish Rogue, which is my new favourite beer.
I finished dinner, and the Old Irish Rogue. Which brings us up to date. I'm now slowly working my way through the Imperial Stout. I just got paged, but I have decided to ignore it. I am still off duty. Also, I am beginning to feel a bit drunk.
I tried on my new clothes. The sleeveless thing that looks goo don the model in the photo, didn't look quite so good on me; it's apaprently skin tight, so the visual impact is a) hey, nipple peircings, and b) um, hey, beer belly. So I think I'll put that one away as a "wear when I've lost another 20 lbs."
Today was what I needed. I have spent the entire day reacquianting myself with my life. It's been fabulous. I wish I could do this every day. Days like this are motivation to make sure I can afford a comfortable retirement, so I can spend my twilight years feeling this alive.
After the past two weeks of hell, I am Me again, and it feels good.
The beer is finally mellowing out my manic energy, and I'm sitting here singing at the top of my lungs, badly out of tune.
Life is good.
I have to post this now, otherwise I'm going to keep thinking of things to add in forever.