I had big plans for these past couple of days. Calendar marked, notes on the memo kind of plans. Instead I got into a groove writing and I've barely left my fortress of solitude. While this is good for my grand nerd novel experiment, it is bad for my social life/job search/sanity. I did go back to the gym though. I have grown strong. How does one become stronger on a diet of beer and loneliness? If one starves because they dislike cooking, is that an epic death?
I guess I'll call it a hunger strike so it seems honorable.
Note: I promise I'll find a camera soon because all you illiterates are clamoring for pictures.
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