Just mere days from my 35th birthday … ugh, I’m getting old. Truthfully, I don’t feel old, but I have noticed that during the few times that I’m actually performing some strenuous work for an extended period of time (which, of course eliminates sex from the conversation), that my recovery time is increasing. Whilst in San Francisco, we did a lot of walking … in case you weren’t aware, San Fran has a ton of frickin’ hills. I estimated that we probably walked more than 5 miles one day … which felt like close to a million with the hills factored in.
The really good news about this whole thing was that I neglected to pack my cross-training sneakers, and just wore a pair of new Converse sneaks that weren’t broken in. The pain that I experienced that night and the following day was not good … like when I had to go to the movies once with an ex-girlfriend to see the remake of “That Darn Cat.” My calves looked like Popeye’s arms for a few days, which is probably a good thing, I guess.
Anyway, today was my first day back at work, and let me tell ya, it wasn’t easy. I wasn’t used to getting up at a prescribed time, because of vacation. So, when that alarm clock sounded off at 6:00 a.m. this morning, I felt like crushing every atomic particle that made up that sum-bitch. As the day went on, I got more and more groggy. I felt like I could fall asleep at any minute on the ride home. Thankfully, it’s a short work week … and, did I mention my birthday is on Saturday? Good times!
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