Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Illness hacked into my Fitbit progress.
But those weekly averages please me. Buoyed by the fine weather, I’d increased my target miles to six per day in the second half of May. This week, I increased the target to seven miles per day. We’ll see how it progresses.
Thinking about getting out the bicycle, too.
Eight of us were in attendance at the weekly BoBs to toast Q (our late founder) and Harold Schlumberg. Of those eight, three were drinkers on the dark side. On that day, we were partaking of Caldera’s award winning Pilot Rock Porter. It’s great to be able to support a local business.
The three dark drinkers were arrayed together on one side, not by plan to sit with the other dark drinkers, but by choice about where we preferred to sit. Then, it was noticed that the dark drinkers all wore Fitbits. No one else had one. Further, all the Fitbits were the Charge 2 models.
Coincidence? What is the probability of the three dark drinkers sitting side by side wearing Fitbit Charge 2s while the five light drinkers, imbibing the Amber Ale, did not wear Fitbits?
Hell, I don’t know. You do the math.
Kitgo (definition): a very fast, energetic kitten or small cat.
In Use: “Onyx may have been ten years old, but she moved like a six-month-old kitgo, sprinting across the room, leaping up onto chairs and off again, before dashing down the hall to the bedroom.”
Here we are, cruising the quirky oceans of life. It’s relatively calm waters for me today, slight swells. Faint, high clouds and a spring blue sky don’t presage any tempestuous weather, but I haven’t read the news yet or checked the emails. That’s where my weather indicators arise.
It’s Wednesday. Used to be the “hump day,” as in get over this hump in the middle of the week, and the downhill slide begins toward the weekend. That was when I was a standard Monday through Friday nine to fiver. Now I work for myself, writing and editing. Any day can become a hump day. It depends on what I encounter. For now, I’ll take up Bobby McFerrin’s musical advice from nineteen ninety-eight to, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” He was following Meher Baba’s poster advice.
Chill. Don’t worry. Be happy.
Michael Seidel, writer 