Back to life, back to reality

Monday: I am a pile. It takes me a good hour of hitting the snooze to get up. I have a subtle, yet very visible new layer of bad on the bod. I get home and lift weights while watching Saw IV from the Redbox and while cooking a 12-serving brown rice/steak/vegetable slop food mess for the week. After the opening scene that reminds me of a horrible car wreck that is just plain horrible but you can't make yourself look away, I manage to limit my jumps from being freaked out to one and manage to get my appetite back enough to eat. Guess I'll have to see Saw V now. I get to bed at 1 AM.

Tuesday: I am a pile. It takes me a good hour of hitting the snooze to get up. After work I run some errands, stop by a friend's house to pick him up and head to the first game of the winter hockey session for the team that I run. I hope most have brought money. Most do, but I'm still short. I am briefly disgusted with the fact that I'll have to nag people for another week. We play last session's champs that we have lost to twice. We... win?! Maybe we are good again this session. I have an awesome runner's high the entire way home and have new-found lung capacity to sing Green Day the entire half-hour ride home. My runner's high prevents me from even getting to my bed until 2 AM.

Wednesday: I'm a semi-pile. It takes me a good half-hour of hitting the snooze to get up. I dread my evening of what I would guess to be six loads of laundry, a result of my two weeks of going nuts. I get home and begin laundry; I am fortunate to have three pairs of washers and dryers at my disposal. I check to make sure they're open and go to grab my first three loads of seven (I had more than I thought). A woman snakes into the laundry room as I am walking towards it, and I am down to one washer and one dryer until she's done. DAMN IT. I start the one load and go to grab dryer sheets. I'm out. DAMN IT. I bolt to Cub to get some and grab some groceries while I'm at it and make it back just as my first load in the washer is finishing up. I see that the woman has another two loads. DAMN IT. I start another load and go back to my apartment to clean and lift weights and do funny-looking exercises with my new exercise ball. I go back to check on the laundry status and finally the lady is done and I can begin 3x-ing my loads. I start another load and get back to exercising. Another load finishes and I re-load. I go down to vacuum my car and clean the dashboard. I get back upstairs and start my final dry cycle and fold and put away the cleans. I eat straight blue cheese and carrots to kill time and hunger. The final load finishes and I retrieve it, fold it, and put it away. It's 12:45 AM. DAMN IT. So much for getting a good night's sleep this week. At least it was a productive day...

Thursday: I'm not really a pile anymore, but it is still hard as hell to get up after seven hours of sleep when I needed about nine or ten. I only hit the snooze for 18 minutes. I get my oil changed and car washed on the way home from work. I get home, eat blue cheese and a yellow onion caramelized in EVOO (weird...). I go down to the exercise room and BONUS, they have installed an LCD TV. I set the elliptical timer for an hour and get started. A few minutes later, another dude comes in and starts going nuts on the treadmill. Note that I have this horrible need to be competitive in situations where it is COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY so I decide that I'm going to outlast this guy. 40 minutes pass and oh, shit, my crappy old iPod mini battery runs out. Nine times out of 10 I quit within five seconds of that battery dying. But the guy on the treadmill is still going, and so I press on to beat him. I get to 50 minutes, and he quits. I win. Haha. I go the full 60 and am near collapse. Now I sit here with another great runner's high, all my chores done, and a completely open slate for the weekend. LIFE IS GOOD.