Benchmark
A new recovering benchmark:Bench Press: 245lbs.
Body Weight: 250lbs.
I faced the pell again for the third time since Doc’s okay. My friend Drew joined me. Fellow boxers Sita, her wee daughter Kaylee in tow, and then Brian came by to wish me well. A new prospective student named Chris asked if Jack will be starting the class again soon. I’ve heard that’s Jack’s plan. First I must repair the equipment that's been damaged while I was gone.
Some friend’s of Drew’s piled in at one point. One of them clowned with Drew’s bag. The friend threw a dozen funny punches but quit when he hurt his hand. I just shook my head and pounded away. The disruption soon passed.
We caught sight of the Mixed-Up Martial Artist. Drew told me that the guy has a real chip on his shoulder, where I just thought the guy was grossly insecure. Maybe we’re both right?
Mike was back from his Albanian Beach Wrestling adventure (comments here and pictures here). I’m one of the people whom Mike confided in. I don’t fill out TPS reports.
I’m still weak as a kitten, but I’m starting to shake the gym again when I pound the heavy bag, blasting Sinead O’Connor’s I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got. I lasted for seven of her ten songs this time. I don’t own a telephone, so this is one way of calling friends…
I also talked with a friend of mine after my work out. She’s a boxer too. She has two children at home and a cheating husband. This is a small town and everybody is in everybody’s business. I’ve a pretty low opinion of cheaters though, even when they live in a big city and might get away with it.
I’m still the bad guy at work. Recently someone made a change to our paperwork, and gave a bullshit reason. My supervisor Paul was offended at being constantly bullshitted - fair enough. Paul said "They should just tell us what they want and not give us reasons."
It seems when one lives where most everyone either has an imaginary friend or thinks 9/11 was an inside job it’s too much to ask for rational decisions communicated clearly. I told him "I'm not a fan of autocratic cowardice."
It was the wrong response apparently.
Previously: What Happened.
Next: Benchmark.
Body Weight: 250lbs.
I faced the pell again for the third time since Doc’s okay. My friend Drew joined me. Fellow boxers Sita, her wee daughter Kaylee in tow, and then Brian came by to wish me well. A new prospective student named Chris asked if Jack will be starting the class again soon. I’ve heard that’s Jack’s plan. First I must repair the equipment that's been damaged while I was gone.
Some friend’s of Drew’s piled in at one point. One of them clowned with Drew’s bag. The friend threw a dozen funny punches but quit when he hurt his hand. I just shook my head and pounded away. The disruption soon passed.
We caught sight of the Mixed-Up Martial Artist. Drew told me that the guy has a real chip on his shoulder, where I just thought the guy was grossly insecure. Maybe we’re both right?
Mike was back from his Albanian Beach Wrestling adventure (comments here and pictures here). I’m one of the people whom Mike confided in. I don’t fill out TPS reports.
I’m still weak as a kitten, but I’m starting to shake the gym again when I pound the heavy bag, blasting Sinead O’Connor’s I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got. I lasted for seven of her ten songs this time. I don’t own a telephone, so this is one way of calling friends…
I also talked with a friend of mine after my work out. She’s a boxer too. She has two children at home and a cheating husband. This is a small town and everybody is in everybody’s business. I’ve a pretty low opinion of cheaters though, even when they live in a big city and might get away with it.
I’m still the bad guy at work. Recently someone made a change to our paperwork, and gave a bullshit reason. My supervisor Paul was offended at being constantly bullshitted - fair enough. Paul said "They should just tell us what they want and not give us reasons."
It seems when one lives where most everyone either has an imaginary friend or thinks 9/11 was an inside job it’s too much to ask for rational decisions communicated clearly. I told him "I'm not a fan of autocratic cowardice."
It was the wrong response apparently.
Previously: What Happened.
Next: Benchmark.