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Same old, same old.

Still cranking away at the second whippet sweater. Still working too much. Whipping up a new hat—that’s probably too small and I’ll have give to someone much younger.Which means I’ll probably make two.

Thursday I made it to the gym—with my gym shorts. My response to the desk clerk that said, “Have a nice workout”? “That’ll be the day,” under my breath of course.

Saturday, I went back and found out that all the effort controlling my bike on the uneven roads of Brooklyn, while it did a good job on my shoulders, biceps, pecs—actually, just so so—and upper back, did absolutely nothing for my forearms. Two days later and they still hurt. The muscles, not the joints.

Dinner Sunday night: Sopa de Lima. Fab.

And the best news? J has to go to FedEx tomorrow, so I don’t have to. Woohoo. Solstice shipping done.

So much for that bit of premature glee. I just though of three or four gifts I have yet to buy/make, much less ship.