Just as I’ve really been able to settle into a nice routine of working out, sleeping sensibly, doing boring work while affording myself a lot of time for brogging or other personal writing endeavors, all while getting paid well, slightly seeing a little bit of financial breathing room, and dealing with a 30-mile commute that believe it or not, doesn’t suck . . . I find out today that tomorrow’s my last day, barring an apocalypse of work that would warrant needing me to stay longer.
Tag: running
I’ve been mistaken for a lot of things in my life
But Hispanic has never been one of them. When I was 17 and had shoulder length, mostly blond hair, I was once mistaken for a woman (despite standing in front of a urinal at the time). When I lived in Harrisonburg, where nobody knew what a Korean was, I was once actually called black. While lunching in downtown Toronto during the film festival, someone once thought I was a particular director that I had never heard of.
But today, while I was out jogging, I was passed some little kids who were all mesmerized by the not-black person, apparently training to burglarize in broad daylight. Couldn’t have been any older than maybe eight years old. As we reached the range of earshot, one of them says to me “hola,” and not in the “I’m using Spanish because it’s cool” kind of way, but in the “I think this guy is Spanish” kind of way. I acknowledged him with a nod, and kept jogging.
Mistaken for a Spanish person. There’s a first for everything. Silly batarians.
One positive to a rekindled angst
With my head not necessarily on straight these past days, I’m finding it easier to run in the mornings. Furthermore, due to the fact that the current gig is 47 miles from my house, in the worst traffic part of Metro Atlanta, I’ve forced myself to wake up at 6:30 a.m., instead of forfeiting any working out at all. And at least for the last three days, waking up at 6:30 has been less troublesome than when I awoke at 7 a.m. in order to run and do some working out prior to getting to whatever gigs want me there at 9:30-10.
Or maybe it’s the subconscious reminder of rejection that is unconsciously driving me to want to improve myself further again, starting with the physicality, and making running and lifting in the mornings less of a nuisance, and more of a motivation. Maybe it’s just the structured routine that I’m always aspiring to have that’s doing it. Either way, good for me, for exercising.
The work itself is easy, time-consuming, and in a way, therapeutic. I can more or less turn off my brain and mow through assignments like a weedwacker. Two freelancers were brought in to undertake this project, and I felt that it was unnecessary. Turns out that I was right, and that while I’m still here, the other guy was sent home. Not to toot my own horn, but I know I’d be an asset to any fucking company that just had the balls to actually hire me.
A cranberry vodka sounds like a fantastic way to end the day.
A Bad Direction
Lately, I’ve been struggling getting up in the morning to run. A combination of not regularly working, but mostly the fact that at 7:00 am, it’s as pitch black as Wesley Snipes outside, and I can’t really fathom running in it. So, I’ve been skipping my morning jogs far too frequently, which obviously, is not a good thing.
Worse, I’m posting such thoughts from a Five Guys. I’m going to become a (worse) jealous fatty again at this rate.
I guess I’m a tool now
Now it’s obvious that my current preference in what I do with my hair is pretty much summed up in a fairly erratic, somewhat controlled spikiness to it. My mom hates it, those friends who have bothered to comment upon it have said they think it’s hip and cool, and most importantly, I’m fairly happy with it. In the past, I used hair gel to spike it, to which it would gradually fade as they day progressed, and my hair would revert back to a limp fluff. I moved onto this styling putty that my hair cutting lady used on me once after a cut, which seemed to be more effective, and sure enough it lasts a little bit longer, but by day’s end, it’s the same result.
I saw a commercial one day for a product that was different than the others, and I have to admit that I was intrigued. Problem was, it was an AXE product, and as anyone who watches a modicum of television knows that AXE products are geared and targeted to the douchebag market of men, since most of them are the most narcissistic and conscious about their appearances. I don’t know what that says about me, but I do like to make somewhat of an effort to appease myself, and maybe some others.
But anyway, I end up getting this AXE “messy look” stuff, which has the consistency of wax, but once you put it in your hair, well . . . It’s 1:04 am at the time I’m taking to actually write this, and my hair is still somewhat puffed up and spiky to when I originally did it at 8:15 am in the morning. Fuckin’ incredible.
Now I know that’s about the gayest thing in the world for me to write about, boasting about an AXE hair product, but hey, if it gets the gears of writing moving, then so be it.
Photos: July 4th Weekend
T’was an action-packed July 4th weekend for me this year. Participated in three different parties, lit off around $200 dollars worth of South Carolina fireworks, and ran yet again in the Peachtree Road Race. I felt like I did as good as I’ve run in previous years, but was mortified to find out that I was almost an entire nine minutes slower than last year. Yikes. Regardless, it was a fun and eventful weekend, all thanks to the wonderful people around me.
Can’t believe I got up and ran this morning
I’m late for work, and I’ll be later, but I don’t really care. I’m in a good mood today. 🙂