Mondays at the gym mean eye candy. Today it also meant various types of deadlifts, squats and hip raises in such quantities and with enough weights to make me walk like a duck tomorrow.
And then J tried to keep me awake in Subway by talking about politics. It almost worked. I’m tired, my muscles hurt. I wonder if it’s time to grow up.
Last night I read Jack Kerouac’s The Sea Is My Brother: The Lost Novel. Say what you will about the writer’s maturity, the book was breathing wanderlust and such joie de vivre. Those things, if any, are truly beautiful.