Life without adrenaline. in The Napkin.

It’s my day off, and a rest day from the gym. Don’t always need to be productive, but off to a good start. “Start” - it’s 4:14 pm.

Well, whatever. Been going to bed around 1-2 AM and getting up around 8-9 am. Try to finish my workout by noon. (They’re getting longer and longer. Now if only some parts of anatomy worked like that.) That is to say, I got up around 11:15 am. So, I think I’ve been pretty productive for a mere five hours.

Headed out to Taco Bell for Firstmeal. I have beyond proximity bias - I don’t understand the negative associations with the ‘Bell. While I dine alone, my first association with the ‘Bell is having it all the time with my mom. Pizza Hut, I got to play the Simpsons arcade game and swipe a first slice while we drove home. And… sometimes we went to Roy Rogers, before it turned into another McDonalds.

(No, really. There’s two within 1000 feet of each other. Ditto Dunkin’ Donuts. Heh, people from outside Jersey may not understand the “other side of the highway” thing.)

But yeah, kept the momentum going. Changed the kitchen trash before it started overflowing. Skimmed Alice’s box, and completely changed the girls’ box, and the boi’s box. That’s a lot of shite to do, pun intended. Intend to start a load of laundry and set a load of dishes.

Didn’t even get to what I wanted to say. The initial two weeks of the new job have worn off. The “I don’t wannna” fades to annoyance fades to routine.

I got this job out of boredom. Whether accurate or not, seeking and embracing boredom has been my strategy this year. Stop trying so hard to be or do anything. Sure, I lift. And I’m proud of it to a degree. But it’s mostly background noise. It’s just another moving wheel, a piece of the puzzle.

It passes the time. The job, that is. My stress level is getting lower with each week, so that’s a good sign. Correlates with me kicking ass in the gym. Never underestimate how the mental aspect, mental health can affect gym performance.

I do still wish I had a female comrade, but I kind of want more time like this. To be able to refer back to this period of time as the time when I did these things, and felt however I feel now.

I like having the consistent, reliable data.

I know, I’m weird.

So that when my life gets changed again, I’ll know what it is I’m yearning for.

Thursday’s workout went over 2 hours long. Hey, hey, don’t judge me too harshly. My preworkout sometimes makes me have to #2 midworkout. I try to get that shit out of the way beforehand, but well. Shit happens. Better in the toilet, comrades.

Oh, when I got these tattoos, I did not even think about the kind of reaction I’d get from hoomans. I got them for me.

People either A: Don’t know what it is. 2: Think it’s a Zelda reference. Or D, very rarely: Correctly identify them as Dragon Quest tattoos.

It’s a small +1 to the mood, but the little compliments to add up over the course of a day. In other situations, they’re a decent conversation starter. Still haven’t had a conversation along enough to explain the symbol of Ramia, the phoenix, and rebirth. It’s a common enough ethos/trope/symbol/meaning, but whatever. I stand by it.

And who can’t help but smile at that slime? SLIME IS AN ACRONYM FOR SMILE!

Don’t take life too seriously. Life is fatal.

Anyway, I’ve been master debating whether to start Kenobi or Stranger Things. As I’m still only 4 episodes into Boba Fett, I’m favoring Stranger Things as a Saturday binge.

“But Timmy, aren’t you a Trekkie who shits on Boba Fett for fun?”

Yes. Since I have no attachment to the character, I don’t care what direction they take the character. I’m liking Boba Fett so far. (If I’ve said this already, whatever. I assume anyone reading is reading for the first time. Also takes the pressure off anyone following along who skips entries. IT’S OKAY, I HAVE 85 UNREAD BOOKMARKS.)

Oh, and have I mentioned the back compliments. WAIT, LET ME TAKE OFF MY SHIRT AND SHOW YOU MY EPISDERMIS.

Oh, the notch on my spine is just a callous from squatting. I actually prefer the bars that have knurling in the center. Let’s me “feel” the bar more.

Otherwise, I think it’s my mid-traps/rhomboids that are popping. I don’t recall seeing that in years past.

It’s all about the posterior chain, baby. Deadlifts/RDLs, bent-over rows, chins. Nothing fancy. Just inanimate objects and effort. (I’d write out my base cycle, but I doubt anyone cares.)

Just wait until I get to a 4 plate deadlift and decide to work on making my arse bigger. An ass without an arse is a farce.

If I can manage days like this, life might be worth looking forward to, rather than winding down the clock.