Promised myself I would rise this morning with a song on my lips and a skip to my step as I laced up my sneakers and hit the pavement at dark o’ clock in the morning. Instead, dragged self out of bed at around 9:30 AM and ate bread slices with peanut butter and honey. I did 8 Minute Abs but it was all downhill from there. Puttered around the house all day somewhat aimlessly. Went to Winn-Dixie to re-fill the water jugs. Felt very industrious and contributing for all of 15 minutes whilst doing so.
Promised myself I would clean the bathroom and didn’t. The same contact lens that has been stuck to the floor for the last several…weeks…*cough* is still there, silently laughing at me in all its dried up glory. Bah.
Made some bangin’ lentil soup. Green lentils, onions, garlic, ginger, turmeric root, salt, celery seed, cumin, red pepper. I was surprised at how freakin’ awesome it was. My mom said, “Wow, this came out good!” with astonishment. (She didn’t have to sound that astonished, IMHO.)
Accidentally spilled half a bowl of soup on myself while attempting to read Bridget Jones’ Diary. I was sitting on the floor against the couch with my knees pulled up, the bowl balanced between my thighs and my stomach. I narrowly averted third-degree burns by pulling the hem of my shirt up and away from my skin, the burning hot liquid suspended in the make-shift cradle of my shirt. (The sad thing was, after it happened, the first thought that came into my head was, Hey, something to write in my blog!) I ran to the trashcan and started wiping away the mess. It looked like someone threw up on my shirt. All the same, I couldn’t resist tasting some of the errant lentils. The soup was just that good, even when it’s decorating my clothes I can’t contain myself.
Some idiot hit my mom’s car as he was trying to park next to her at the bank. Stupid kid tried to pin it on my mom, saying she started backing out while he was pulling into the parking space. Police gave him two tickets. Hah.
Didn’t work out today at all. I ate all the candied pecans that were decorating the Panera buns. Woe is me.
Went to Barnes and Noble to console myself. Played “Is She Fatter Than Me?”, a mental game in which I compared myself in regards to the women around me. While looking for a chair to sit in, I was instantly cheered by an obese fat girl who was sitting on the floor because she obviously could not fit into any of the chairs. Further cheered when I sat down and had enough room to comfortably fit my bag next to me. Told myself I was a horrible human being for thinking such thoughts but could not be averted. Thought about how this girl could probably only dream of fitting into my pants, while I was busy dreaming about fitting into some other woman’s pants. Very disturbed by thoughts of strange women’s pants and discreetly averted my eyes as the girl clumsily and with great labor rose to her feet and walked away.
Read the first 80 pages of East of the Sun, an engrossing book about three British women who are traveling to colonial India for different reasons. Realized the word “cosset” is in English, too. Up until now kosut! was something my mom directed in exasperation at my grandmother when she got uppity.
Went to the bathroom to make wudhu for maghrib, and went about the bookstore looking for places to pray while trying to keep the appearance that I was just browsing. Stepped into the music section for the first time in over a year (People still pay for music? Really?) but felt it was sacriligious to pray amongst the Devil’s scripture. Finally wimped out and just came home.
Watched the latest episode of Kings today. Watched an old episode of Bones.
My body is aching from the double-whammy of weight training and kickboxing, so I will hold on to that most fragile of excuses for not working out and live to sweat another day. Ta.