Sweating it out at a body pump class. Sadly, this is not me in the photo. Surprising, I know. But I must confess, I am much less glamorous when I pump it. Today's session was particularly dire as my thin and fraying towel deposited white bits of fluff over fellow pumpers. And I was not succesful in masking my distinct lack of strength by positioning myself strategically near a testosterone-laden pumper lifting twice his own body weight - guaranteed to grunt and sweat profusely, thus hiding my own little flaws and imperfections. Still, I achieved the desired result - the illusion of immortality for another day.
Sweating it out with a logic textbook. Sadly, this is not my work. Surprising, I know. But I am not inclined to moments of brilliance that involves visiting ants from other galaxies. Today's session was particularly dire as my gnashing of teeth and grinding of bones distracted all other students in the library. I was not succesful in masking my distinct lack of intelligence by positioning myself strategically near a genius whose brilliant mind might inspire me to greater analytical heights. Still, I achieved the desired result - the illusion of immortality for another day.
And so to the lesson...training the body and mind serve no purpose other than to feed illusion and to deny the reality that death...is waiting...just around the corner.....
Which brings me to my final interesting encounter. Quite randomly. With somebody who asked me if I liked animals. And I replied - I have a cat. And she quoted (drumroll.....)
"I am the cat who walks alone, and all people and places are the same to me."
That, ladies and gentlemen, is Rudyard Kipling. I had to google it. The lady in question is in fact a cat who walks alone, wild and mysterious, whereas I am nothing more than a mangy tabby who survives on the scraps of society. And utterly incapable of erudite quotes.
Thus ended my day.
