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Sangfroid

My foot is f'ed up. Again. This time it seems to be the heel or arch or whatever. I'm having such bad luck lately, two sprains and now this crap. I'm getting old.

You know what amazes me, that I can give my kids all the advice in the world but I'll never take it. I can be a hell of a personal trainer. I know excercises, drills, etc. for most situations. I can tell people what to eat, when, dieting tips, etc. but I'll never use them. You know, I've taken classes on sports, on coaching, physical training, I have friends who are professional personal trainers, NCAA Division trainers, coaches. It's of no use to me.

Where was I going with this? Who knows?

Things can be so obvious. The path is lit, the guys with those cool lights are guiding me in. I want to keep circling. These are the kind of entries that make me doubt my sanity. Parts rambling, parts coherent thoughts.

I just keep typing. Let it out. D's party is Saturday, I have absolutely nothing to wear. I hate clubs. However, television could definitely use more "fly-girls". It's amusing to see J-Lo back then.

I also lost my black Zoo York skully to go along with the grey one I lost last month. I'm losing it. Gray? Grey? I always get them confused just like recieved or received. I'm an idiot but I'm not cheating by using dictionary.com.

This feels like a meme kind of night.

Or not.