i just love the erratic whims of nature on the eastern seaboard. a week ago, it would have felt like late February, if it weren't for the wall of green outside the windows: fifty-ish temperatures and misty dampness bore into your marrow and won't be fixed by a sweater or a big, potent margarita. this week, they start talking about tropical storms, again... and my skin feels like a waxed cucumber in the produce bin. for sure, not as cool as one should be, proverbally. in fact, most of the weekend has left me a little "gamey" from exertion... taking care of chores that will be missed when i leave for Indianapolis on Wednesday, for international racing tomfoolery. regardless of the loseness of my clothes, or the brevity, i marinate just the same. at least the brown on my arms is semi-permanent, instead of just ooze. a lot of the exertion has come from sweating out the details... in no small way, due to "creative financing". leaving enough groceries and $ behind so that i won't be a total asshole. so what if i eat only fruit, and only drink beer for two days? i think i may have trained for that possibility. my expensive fucking tastes will be the death of me yet. or, will it be the elements? |
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