Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I managed to achieve a goal of walking an average of seven miles per day for the last week, ending at 7.05 miles. It seems like so few in reflection.
My thirty-day and three month averages both increased, as well, to 6.95 and 5.82, respectively.
I remain dubious about the Fitbit’s accuracy, but it’s progress. I’ll take it.
Interesting, but it’s an old and worn bumper sticker on an old and worn Toyota. I wondered who was elected that they elected to put these words on their bumper?
I hope I can do,
Promise I will do,
Struggle with can’t do,
Resist that which won’t do,
And vow to just do it.
Then I spend days thinking of how.
Catarm (Catfinition) A stiff and sore arm caused by holding it stationary because a sleeping cat is using it, and one doesn’t want to bother the sweet little purrbug.
In Use “When Brenda finally decided to move Pogo, she discovered she had a severe case of catarm to work out, and spent several minutes rubbing her bicep, forearm, and elbow to ease her stiffness.”
Today’s song came out during a time when I navigated the usual issues with understanding myself, love and life during my teenage years.
The song was written by Toy Caldwell, a founding member of the band, and a person of passions. He passed away in nineteen ninety-three, forty-five years old, from cardio and respiratory problems associated with cocaine use. It’s his lead guitar on the song.
The song is, “Can’t You See,” by the Marshall Tucker Band. It came out in nineteen seventy-three, and it’s one of those songs that captures the despair you can feel over something you’re enduring. The song’s sentiments ends up capable of being applied to many moments of frustration and hopelessness. “Can’t you see what you’re doing to me?” “Can’t you see what this job is doing to me?”
To me, to you, to us, you can run through the gamut and come out on the other side with the same vows the song encapsulates. “Gonna find me a mountain, jump off, and nobody’s going to know.” You’ve been pushed to your end. Then, after the release of all these thoughts, you reach a binary moment: which way you going to go? Are you really going to get on a freight train and run away, or jump off a mountain, or you going to suck it up, endure the pain, and find another way to press on regardless?
Some end up lost somewhere in the middle, unwilling or unable to commit to either direction.
Michael Seidel, writer 