I have a bunch of grand plans for exciting posts - fur realz, they're all drafted and EVERYTHING - but my parents' impending return home has forced my attention on more domestic affairs, like hiding as best as possible that the house hasn't been vaccuumed for over a month, the fish have been fed biweekly at best and the towering pile of evidence that indicates that my broher and I drink a bottle of wine a night. Sigh.
But for now, I would like to share an alarming revelation of adulthood: I fucking love mornings. I'm a goddamn morning person! Case in point: It is 7 am. I have gone for a run, stretched, showered, dressed, had a cup of coffee, checked my personal and work emails, paid a parking ticket and, basically, conquered the slothful laziness of youth.
I used to be a person who would sleep until 2 pm and rejoice. Like it was some great accomplishment: give me my I'm-cool-I-don't-give-a-fuck-sleeping-in trophy nao plz. However, such boldness should probably be tempered with some sort of abundently active post-2pm life. Which I hardly posses now. My job has me rather tuckered by the time I get the hell out of there at 6:00ifI'mlucky. I usually want to dive straight into a glass of wine (see above). So exercise, household chores, etc, simply don't happen as is. So if I want to get shit done, it's got to happen before I leave for work at 8:00. So, basically, the flipside of conquering Spain before most people have had coffee is that you have to sacrifice the standard night life enjoyed by most.
I care not. I rock the Kasbah. And I beat my best 1 mile time this morning (the crowd goes crazy).
Love you.
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