Including the question, “How old are you?”
Yes, today is my birthday! Another year older, another year… here. Life has been good lately: I’m thrilled about starting a new lap around the sun.
Continue reading “42: The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.”I was out the door by 6:30 yesterday morning to get an in-depth analysis of how I’m fucked up. I already knew my internal clock was jammed. I didn’t need the confirmation when I showed up at the specimen collection laboratory five minutes before opening — or so I thought — when I realized it was Sunday. They weren’t open for another 1445 minutes.
I suspect my body might’ve gotten hasty about its descent into middle age and might be experiencing a soft launch into menopause: perimenopause. One of the symptoms of perimenopause is mood swings. I’d been dealing with those monthly for the past 30 years. In fact, aren’t mood swings the mortal coil of womanhood?
Additionally, which specific moods fall under this symptom? Since I’m currently taking a break from work, I generally feel upbeat, with my moments of anger mostly directed at dangerous drivers. It’s the other symptoms that have me wondering if I’ve started perimenopause earlier than expected.
Continue reading “Too metal for granny squares.”Having experienced virtual racing, I can’t believe there are more people who film themselves suffering on a trainer to share on social media than there are people who blog.
I had my second-ever virtual race and the first with “the wolves” on Tuesday. Thankfully, the roomie wasn’t home to witness my thousand faces of agony. My pores opened like floodgates, and within minutes, a small lake had formed underneath my bike. This went on for 72 minutes.
In the videos I mention, riders often forgo the jersey due to comfort. What remains of their attire looks like a futuristic lederhosen, thanks to the cycling bib and chest strap heart rate monitor combo. The willingness to allow people to watch you, in sweat-soaked bibs, make the same faces women make when giving birth, is not the level of exhibitionism I can partake in.
With TikTok and Insta stories, are people just getting lazier about writing? Am I out of touch?
No. It’s the children who are wrong.
Continue reading “Older but stronger.”I’d say last night was the dumbest idea I’ve had in a long time, except it wasn’t my idea.
Let me talk about the events leading up to this near-disaster first.
Continue reading “DNF.”Sometimes I take it personally that I was born in the most miserable month of the year (based on my latitude). I might’ve even been the result of Valentine’s Day plans gone awry. Ick.
On Halloween, I became Oogie Boogie. I identify with his hatred for Christmas.
squaremeat.com 