Between physical training sessions, I tend to forget about the pain. I am suddenly blissfully ignorant and spend a lot of time squeezing my new muscles and checking out my sweet ass in the mirror. But after a training session, like say right now, I feel what I think must be every muscle in the area I worked on. In this case, my arms and chest. And I'm pretty sure every muscle is mad at me and is hell bent on bringing me to my knees. Also, thanks to the Bodies Exhibit, I can picture what those muscles look like exactly, down to the stringiness and overlapping bands. There is no mystery to my insides. Only Zool.

I've decided I love the Killers. A lot.

It is the prettiest day outside. In the 70's, with a bright blue sky. Jer is working the night shift so I have the apartment all to myself. I plan to torment my little kitties and watch television or read or write or stare at the water. And I am taking Monday off. Because I can. But I was stupid and scheduled another training session smack dab in the middle of the day, so I have to find a way downtown on the most inconvenient bus line evah. Please City of Seattle, send me more buses where I live. I promise I will ride them. I will ride them all night long.