Just Me And The Fat Bitch Now
I'm out of shape.
I know people of my gender are known for looking in the mirror and seeing the body of a Hellenic god, when in reality they have enough padding to survive a fall from an airplane. I'm different. I don't share these delusions. I know I look and feel out of shape. I've been trying to nurture this feeling to push myself to exercise more. If I was a girl, this feeling would probably lead me to starve myself, but being a guy, I believe this would actually help me lead a healthier life, provided I don't burn myself out exercising.
There are two gyms available to me down the mountain, but not as nice as the weight rooms in the student rec centers at UBC or UM. They should suffice. the one at the Aquatic Complex, presumably the better of the two is closed until the 14th, but the one at the Community Center is still open. I was reluctant to use it because it's next to a secondary school, and I imagined that gym being full of punks. I finally summoned up the guts to go, and it turned out only three other guys were using it, and none of them looked like they want any trouble. The place was tiny, but it will make do.
Going to the gym was one of the luxuries afforded to me now that my folks are gone on vacation to China, leaving me with the car. Lucky bastards get to go on a trip retracing the Silk Road. But then again, being herded around like sheep by the tour guide, where the whole flock is either suffering a mid-life crisis or retired can be pretty depressing.
This just leaves me with the cat, who I appropriately name "Fat Bitch". The dog has been taken to the care of the vet, because I can only manage taking care of one pet and one house. Panning for kitty nuggets, for a cat that's nice to my parents but hostile to me, is enough thank you. Perhaps I was born with a birth defect making my feet resemble mice, but that cat has marked them for prey, and has a nasty habit of stalking me and running up from behind to swipe my Achilles'. If I spot her chasing after me, I usually stomp on the ground real loud to ward her off, but I still have to wear blue jeans around the house.
Being alone in the house, I want to have a BBQ, but all my friends have "something to do" at whatever time and day I propose, leaving me with nothing to do but clean my shithole room and continue with my futile job search. It's so depressing to finally go home, only to find that you just left behind more close friends than you have here. What do I need to do to get more time with people dear to me!?
Maybe I'll just sneak behind them and swipe their Achilles' instead.
I know people of my gender are known for looking in the mirror and seeing the body of a Hellenic god, when in reality they have enough padding to survive a fall from an airplane. I'm different. I don't share these delusions. I know I look and feel out of shape. I've been trying to nurture this feeling to push myself to exercise more. If I was a girl, this feeling would probably lead me to starve myself, but being a guy, I believe this would actually help me lead a healthier life, provided I don't burn myself out exercising.
There are two gyms available to me down the mountain, but not as nice as the weight rooms in the student rec centers at UBC or UM. They should suffice. the one at the Aquatic Complex, presumably the better of the two is closed until the 14th, but the one at the Community Center is still open. I was reluctant to use it because it's next to a secondary school, and I imagined that gym being full of punks. I finally summoned up the guts to go, and it turned out only three other guys were using it, and none of them looked like they want any trouble. The place was tiny, but it will make do.
Going to the gym was one of the luxuries afforded to me now that my folks are gone on vacation to China, leaving me with the car. Lucky bastards get to go on a trip retracing the Silk Road. But then again, being herded around like sheep by the tour guide, where the whole flock is either suffering a mid-life crisis or retired can be pretty depressing.
This just leaves me with the cat, who I appropriately name "Fat Bitch". The dog has been taken to the care of the vet, because I can only manage taking care of one pet and one house. Panning for kitty nuggets, for a cat that's nice to my parents but hostile to me, is enough thank you. Perhaps I was born with a birth defect making my feet resemble mice, but that cat has marked them for prey, and has a nasty habit of stalking me and running up from behind to swipe my Achilles'. If I spot her chasing after me, I usually stomp on the ground real loud to ward her off, but I still have to wear blue jeans around the house.
Being alone in the house, I want to have a BBQ, but all my friends have "something to do" at whatever time and day I propose, leaving me with nothing to do but clean my shithole room and continue with my futile job search. It's so depressing to finally go home, only to find that you just left behind more close friends than you have here. What do I need to do to get more time with people dear to me!?
Maybe I'll just sneak behind them and swipe their Achilles' instead.
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