I feel like I've unsuspectingly happened upon a luge ramp and am, without even having much of a chance to look around, being whisked down the ice tunnel at speeds faster than I ever imagined. It's semi-terrfying. But, surprisingly, there's something incredibly relaxing and awesome about giving over to the natural momentum of it all. I just did not expect to find myself here. Like, ever. I'll continue to be vague since I know how much you like it.
Yo. Guys. Things are good, okay? I'm happy? Get it? I'd like to return to the gym; I can't stop thinking about how I feel like I'm filling my clothes out a little more than I used to and about how MUCH HARD WORK I put into lifting and running last year and how RIDICULOUSLY AWFUL it feels to be slacking a little bit. However, it could easily be argued that I'm obsessing about that because I have nothing else important to obsess about. Listen, I'm a hoot. Take it or leave it.
My new improv group had a great first practice last night. The practice itself was short and quick, but we hung out afterwards, all 9 of us, and the conversation was lovely - we really got to know one another better. I hope to become good friends with them. Our official team name was decided last night: The Baldwins. I likes it.
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Okay, my mind is playing tricks on me, because I had to read "luge ramp" about 10 times before I realized that it did not say "huge lump" and you were NOT, in fact, telling us that you had found a "huge lump" somewhere on your body.
Um, WTG on not having lumps? Obviously I need more sleep.
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