An Update: Nothing is Happening

This week's been sweaty. And showery. Because one, logically must follow the other or else you'll stank up the environment with your fumes. Allegedly.

I've been putting my new treadmill to work. Every day I've worked out and I'm feeling stronger already. The first day, my running shoes conspired to try and strip the skin off my heels, but I was ready for that shenanigans with double socks and band aids. You have to get up pretty early to get ME, shoes. So good to get back to it though. Now to get that old fitness level back!

Other than this I've been enjoying casually swearing at rampant tourists and people playing that infuriating pokemon game, who think it's perfectly reasonable to be wandering in front of my car like lobotomized turkeys. Alternately I am calming myself down by looking for whales at my favourite look out point while filling my innards with coffee. Whales and tourists. Two non-complementary opposites when relating to my psyche. Part of that sentence was redundant, but I think we'll all live.

When not indulging in the two above activities I've been not sleeping (I'm pretty much an Olympic grade champion at this) and working strange hours, wearing out my Wacom tablet (note: Need new nibs) on new designs.

To summarize: running, designing, coffee, tourists, whales. I really should have led with that.

Scattered

I live on an international border, so I usually have both American and Canadian cash on me at any given time, just because. In the immediate regions on both sides of the border you can generally spend either currency, and so sometimes it all becomes a big blur in my cluttered little brain. And my wallet.

Sometimes I'm paying for parking, and the machines in my city only take local currency. I'll stand cursing at the smug little metal jackwagon, which is insolently spitting coins right back at me, then realize I've tried to squeeze in one measly U.S. quarter instead of a Canadian one and it's having a bitchfit. They're barely indistinguishable in appearance and size but the machine? IT ALWAYS KNOWS. And it always happens when I only have the exact change, therefore, I wind up a quarter short and either have to move or use my credit card for a two dollar ticket. Gah. FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS, am I right?

I already feel better having ranted about this highly important event.

I just bought a new treadmill and I'm stoked. It's been two - almost three - years since I last ran and I miss it.

I should point out, I hate running. Let me put it into context for you. 

Take Tom Jones. Infamous for inducing people's moms everywhere, into a panty-soaking mass of hysteria. Tom's fans love Tom so much they will hurl said gross panties at him on stage, faint all over the place, and defend him to the death with their all-encompassing adoration. If you were to take all that mom-generated passion, put it in a cocktail shaker, shake it up violently, clone it seventeen times, and pour it into a giant cosmic container, you STILL would not have the amount of passion strong enough to equal my passionate hatred for running.

But I do like the way I feel after I run, so I am excited to get back into being a wobbly, shaky, sweaty, sweary mess - albeit one whose jeans fit better! - four times a week. If nothing else I'll get to listen to some new podcasts or music. And maybe it will render me too tired to yell at the assholic dickweeds in their gigantic, tiny-wanger-compensating, pick-up trucks, who keep trying to illegally park in our 'residential only' parking outside the house, and who keep backing into my tiny car like it's not there. 

MAYBE...

Hope you all had a good July 4th/Canada Day/weekendy summer thing!