Busy, busy, busy, oops, busy….

So, as you might guess, I’ve been BUSY.  Get up at 4:30 AM, go to work, wake girlfriend up at 5:30 AM, go for a two-mile walk in the woods, shower, back to work, breakfast, more coffee please, back to work, she leaves for work, eat a snack so I don’t start to shake too bad (these diabetic meds make me NEED to eat every two hours or I literally feel faint and shaky, ugh whatever, “passing out isn’t good.”)  (Oh and if you’re interested, a shot glass holds exactly a 1/4 cup of trail mix -one serving- so it makes me feel like I’m doing something ‘bad’ when I throw back my shot glass a few times, eating my snack :P). 

Go outside to the garden.  I have four things coming up now, one of them is almost a foot high; I have yet to determine what any of them are.  I know I should have saved the labels, carefully marked each set of seed plantings but I did not.  No, rather I relied on the one thing for which there is no reliability; my memory.  Hence, we have an “unknown garden” that I HOPE will produce vegetables that at some point I WILL KNOW what they are.  Egad, man.  Weed and water and take a few guesses at what my plants are, head back inside, to, you know, WORK.  Eat lunch.  Do the dishes.  Plan dinner.  Prep dinner.  Go back to work.  Have another shot glass of trail mix.  Back to work.  Woman calls; she’s on her way home.  Start dinner, water garden, empty trash, haul out the compost.  Woman’s home!  Yay!  Eat dinner.  Two miles in the woods, shower, too tired for television unless it’s Hannibal, Bates Motel or Naked and Afraid – yes, I probably am disturbed on some level.  I can’t decide if I want to be a serial killer (at least in theory) or if I’m simply waiting to be NAKED AND AFRAID.  Woman says she won’t go into the woods with me without any clothes.  Party pooper.  But she does confess that we’d survive on leaves and grubs and that the couple who didn’t even attempt to eat those bats in that cave were idiots.  We also agree that one dude who brought “goggles” was the biggest moron of them all.  For the record, I’d bring a machete and she’d bring a Bic; (who the fuck brings a “fire-starter”?)  Yeah, this is called “a lighter”. 

And now you know…the rest of the story. 

Have a great day!  And if you’re lucky enough to get stranded on a deserted island with me, don’t worry, I’ll turn over logs until we have a banana leaf full of grubs.  Yum, yum! 


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