No, really. Maybe it's peeking my head temporarily out of the caffeine / booze addiction, but I've been pretty content this week.
Even with the potential Trump presidency, plus all the other indicators that we, as a species, are heading straight into the toilet. I kinda don't mind.
At work I've had this weird zen thing going. Sitting on a balance ball, building a makeshift standing desk from three empty paper boxes stacked on my desk. All the senior people stopping by to ask my opinion on the agency's impending budgetary doom. Trading conspiracy theories. Yeah, I seem to be settling in. Apparently bureaucracy has an attraction to the insane. But it hit me this week as I coasted through a brief to executive management: I have nothing left to fear anymore. I'm completely free.
Oddly enough running has gone a full 180 from last February, when I had lost all interest. I wouldn't say that I'm terribly interested now, but thanks to an estimated 50-70% boost in endurance thanks to the elimination of coffee and booze, I think the July marathon may not be so tough. Hit 11 miles this Monday with plenty left in the tank, without water or supplies. Scrambling over trees, through the woods, and on trails on the northwest branch. Through the mud and muck of a global warming induced floodzone that looks completely different than my last run there. 60 degrees. Perfect.
Ryan's doing well. The no TV plan, instituted mostly because I can't stand to watch TV anymore, seems to be reaping some postitive results. Right now he's playing with play-doh, namong and stacking the colors after refusing to hit the sack this evening. Oh well, more time to spend with him.
Yup it all seems to be coming together just in time for the world to fly apart. Timing is everything.
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