Nuther onea them days where it feels like - insteada air - walking around in jelly. Lazy. Hazy. Hard to see out. Can’t get much of anywhere, do much of anything - content rather to sit in a big blob. That’s me…. Today.
Been to the gym three times now. Sore as hell. Refereed three games yesterday, even sorer. I want my 20-something, do anything, anytime body back! My legs literally talked to me yesterday. Even weirder, I heard ‘em thru all the jelly!
Working on fence in yard. Pole is in, now, it’s a matter of filling it in with dirt. I’m not talking a small hole, hella big one. The concrete that was around the old pole was like 3 foot by 3 foot by 3 foot. Ever eat a pine tree? Sorry, slipped. Ever dig (or try to) when ground is frozen? That, coupled with ‘jelly’ and age, has me taking all too frequent breaks. Like now. Here. Here I am. Should be digging. Can’t. Frigging sweating and it’s 30-something out.
Victor. This all has sucha negative connotation. Whatsup with that? Well… My body hates me, my dirt hates me, Mike Thompson (weather dude) hates me, my workload hates my age, I usurped cat outta warm chair so I could type, he hates me… and the jelly appears to be STRAWBERRY!… I’m a grape kinda guy!
Yet, I get this weird kinda feeling - something’s ahead. Ain’t sure what, just feel it. Under all this goo, I sense good. Been havin’ deja vu. U ever have that crap? Whew! Weird. Usually when it hits - warmth, in some form - is around the corner.
Could be as little as the temps climbing enough so the soil loosens.. Could be ‘the hurts’ from the initial workout will go away.. Could be my legs actually getting back in some kinda shape so the running doesn’t bug me. Or, maybe it means Elisabeth Shue has left her man and is headed to Liberty, MO. Dunno. I’d take any of the above.
Sundays, for most, are different. Work should be done, yet rest is chosen. Whilst it’s another day off - ya know you can’t stay up till all hours. “Work” is in the backa our mind. Think of clothes for week, gas, money.
Temporarily living in jelly. Chugging down I-435 on a moped. Going up the snowpacked hill with rear wheel drive.
Something totally bizarre, but good, is ahead. In the meantime, I’m either goanna go back out and dull the blade of my shovel on the frozen tundra. Or, I might make a jelly sandwich. (Blankets, me, the jelly, the mattress.)
For us in the Midwest, it’s a different time of year. By now, we’re fed up with the cold, we cuss the friggin robins who are enjoying warm Texas nights, and we know there’s not one GD thing we can do to ‘hurry’ spring.
Such is the cycle of the seasons. Of life. Of past life (DeJa Vu). Something ahead is really really good. Prolly justa robin, but I’d take that. Beats frozen ground. Can you dig it? Love, Victurd.
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