Running on Empty
Burn more calories than you intake. Easy enough when you live in two places at once and therefore skip breakfast, have an 11 p.m. snack in place of dinner, and carry eight loads of laundry and fifteen bags of groceries up and down three flights of stairs. I know what you're thinking: La, how glamorous!
At six o'clock yesterday evening, I walked the ten-minutes back to my apartment to meet Simon. (He was sitting on the couch with the cat looking at these and laughing so hard he snorted.) We changed into our gym clothes and walked the ten minutes to the gym, where he ran 4 miles and I ellipticized a little over 3. We did weights and stretching and crunches and Simon got kicked in the head by some spaz who was trying (and failing) to breakdance in a 7'x15' alcove that was occupied by two other people. (Like the link says, practice takes a lot of "patients.") After the gym we walked back to my place. Then we went to the grocery store and proceeded to buy two of everything in stock (except for ground turkey because ground turkey does not belong in tacos) and then we had to haul it out to the car, rearrange the contents of said car to make room, and then load our purchases, which mostly consisted of very heavy cans and 40 lbs. of kitty litter. Then we took 15 percent of the groceries back to my place and up two flights of stairs. And then we left immediately for Simon's.
At his place we unloaded the remaining 85 percent of the groceries, plus three big baskets full of clean laundry from the night before. That's another flight of stairs for those of you who are counting. Twenty minutes later we had put all of the food away (the fridge is so full it's bloated out like a big off-white marshmallow), and it was finally time to have dinner. At a quarter to eleven. I'd had half a burrito at around 1 and Simon? Please tell me you had more than a Cliff Bar for lunch. "I bet I can eat my microwave pizza faster than you can eat your ham sandwich!" "Do I have to shower?" "If, in the future, dresses become a regular part of the male wardrobe, will they have to modify the icons on men’s and women’s restrooms so people don’t get confused?" (See? I was really tired.)
Calories consumed: 800
Calories burned: 150,000,000
(Simon--Didn't you swim yesterday afternoon too?)
In other news, I have a subconjunctival hemmorhage! I coughed so hard I busted a blood vessel IN MY EYE! Good times!
I seem to have the reciprocal of your analysis.
Calories consumed: 150,000,000
Calories burned: 800 (if I'm lucky)
Pregnancy seems to drain one's energy stores and increase their fat stores!
I got exhausted just reading about all of the shopping and running up and down stairs. Whew!
1. Is "ellipticized" a word? I hope so because I like it.
2. I once had such a violent episode of vomitting that I burst blood vessels in both eyes. Go me!
Dare I post this?
Yeah, okay.
Leah, has anyone ever told you you have "one of those faces"? You know, that you look familiar or whatever? 'Cause you do. Lol, I swear I see you (or rather, your twin? doppleganger?) at least once a month or so--and before you go thinking, 'how stalkerish,' let me say that I don't look for you. No, I just see people who resemble you much more often than the odds would suggest I should.
Oh, but this is where it gets a little dicey.
So yesterday I was passing by this girl on campus, and I was struck by how much she looked like you. And then she smiled at someone or something and I saw her teeth, and (are you ready for this?) I suddenly thought chicklets. And, no, not because I thought her teeth looked like chicklets, and not because I think yours do, but because you wrote a post awhile back--something fantastic about your teeth, and chicklets and bunny-puppets--and now those square little bubble gum-lets and your decidedly unchickletlike teeth are apparently forever linked in my brain...along with, apparently, the teeth of any girl who resembles you.
O.o
i swear i've seen you too. . . a few weeks ago i was sitting on bart headed into sf when you or your evil twin (she sported no goatee so it was hard to tell) sat across the aisle from me. . . i think she had a green backpack with an umbrella that had a wooden duckhead for a handle jutting out. . .
Bloopy! Stalker! That was me!
oh, trippy!. . . what're the odds?. . . i was sitting there trying not to stare but i was thinking, "jeez, that *really* looks like girlandaboy. . . nah, couldn't be. . . but the resemblance is uncanny. . . should i say something?. .. what the hell would i say?. . . 'hey, i'm the dude who asked about okra the other day'?. . . but if it ain't her that would make absolutely no sense". . .
i have the same problem with celbrities - never sure if it's them in real life. . . fyi, if you're ever sitting on bart across the aisle from an asian dude with a long-ass skateboard and/or a messenger bag, that's me - i *always* sit next to the doors. . .
Sorry to hear about your eye. Do you get to wear a cool pirate patch or something?
Ground turkey ... it doesn't belong anywhere.