And now, for those of you who find the more mundane details of my life worth reading about.
I don't think I'm going to join the WAC. I can already tell that I'd regret it. For the amount of money I'd be paying, the facilities are too small and too crowded at peak times. There are a few specific pieces of equipment I particularly want to use, and there aren't as many of them as there for the more common treadmills, bikes, and stair-steppers. Also, the logistics are kind of a pain, and the prospect of hauling my skanky self up and down in teeny-tiny elevators, pressed up against bigwigs in evening dress, isn't fun. I think I'll try a smaller chain club instead for the time being. Less of a commitment.
And Jesus fucking Christ I'm so hungry right now I could eat fried puppy. Must make dinner. And--wait--watch Firefly? Could there be an ep on tonight?! Must go check...aaaand no. Fuckers.
I've been inexplicably perturbed for the past few hours. Tetchy and beady-eyed, like a mean snake looking for something to lash out at. Maybe it's not inexplicable. Maybe it's the hunger. God help me, if I gnaw off an arm, I won't be able to type and so I'd better go. Yes. Going now. Now.