Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Sorry, Thoreau, no dinner for you

The gym was moderately crowded when I arrived tonight, which surprised me since I waited until about 7pm to leave the house. Something in the air, I guess.

I don't have a problem exercising when I am physically present inside a gym, but getting there often requires a monumental effort of mental trickery... Maybe I should change into something more comfortable? What if I stretched a little bit? Oh, look, filling the water bottle... maybe I'll just get in the car and drive a few blocks. Surprise! Why not go inside since you drove here? Oh hey, treadmill.

As I played Sisyphus and walked up a steady incline forever, I watched Ace of Cakes. They were decorating Shrek the Musical cakes. I understand that fancy cake decorating is an art -- and the cakes looked fantastic -- but I just don't understand how people eat them. Are they even for eating? One guy made a whole layer out of styrofoam. While I've never tasted styrofoam, I imagine it contains only a few more nutrients than a Big Mac and probably tastes worse. Not even appetizing a little bit.

Maybe because I've never wanted to eat a statue.

I am now in this post-gym mellow haze where words don't string together ... they sort of trail off into this weird fuzzy sea.

I've been reading Walden. That dude sure does have opinions. You know that question: if you could have dinner with anyone, living or deceased, who would it be? Definitely not Mr. Thoreau. I don't care how eloquent he is or how content he is with solitude. Thoreau is JUDGE-Y. Total mood ruiner.

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