gentler pillowy doom

This post is nothing more than to say that the person who created the phrase gentler pillowy doom is a genius, and awesome.

That's Kap.

She hates everyone.

Except maybe you.

Sometimes I feel the same way.

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You will of course have noticed that I'm not posting here as much anymore. This is a sucktastic turn of events, much like my promise to me to walk 2+ miles a day at the beginning of this year. Turns out, walking that much means you have to devote time to it. Time that, as it happens, eats into the sleeping and the lazing about and the gaming that I've come to define my life by,

HOWEVER.

I read the other day that at 40 we start to lose muscle mass.

I? Am almost 50. Schnikes!!!

It's a fair guess that by now I can't do a regular pushup to save my life, given my advanced age. Shit, just getting out of the shower some days is enough to make me cringe, and for some reason my SHOULDERS now hurt when I do crap like....close the car door.

F-ck getting old. I hate it. And I once again am angry at it. (This is a recurring theme. If you've read me rant about geting old, you've no doubt heard this all before. Clue for the newbies - It's bound to be full of fist-shaking and onions).

Because NOW, instead of just having to live and be strong and awesome like I was until I was about 24....I have to work to maintain muscle. MUSCLE. The shit that lets you hold your arms above your head, or get out of a car gracefully. That stuff. That stuff that used to form a really nice mound on my bicep when I flexed, is now no more than an anthill.

It's going.

Dang it.

So, yeah. Me ain't sissy, but I'm lazy, How's a lazy old gal supposed to keep her schwerve if it all comes down to WORK?

I'm open to suggestions.

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Also - it's been too long. Let's do lunch soon. All y'all.

Tiff out.