I’m yawning as I write this.
I stayed up late last night watching Deadpool 2 again (something I’ll probably do again). That was after watching Bohemian Rhapsody, which was not a yawner at all.
Today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday’s (on a Sunday) prompt was, you may have guessed, “yawn.”
However, staying up late (there was a whiskey-inspired “nap” in the late, late viewing of Deadpool) isn’t the reason for the yawning.
Nope. The yawns are from hitting the gym on a Sunday. Something I don’t think I’ve done . . . ever? Or at least since college at Southern Miss when the days pretty much ran together.
Felt good. Been back in the gym since the beginning of the year. Haven’t lost the amount of weight I’d have liked to yet — inconsistent eating and the aforementioned whiskey are slowing that down — but it feels good to feel stronger again.
After struggling to bench 135 pounds 8 times, up to 155 and sets of 8. I suspect that at the end of the year I’ll look about exactly as I do now, only the dimensions will be smaller. After all, at the end of my senior year football season, I was down to 145 pounds. Despite that, I still had an ass and a belly.
Is what it is.
I’ll just be happier knowing that the heart’s back in good shape and, hopefully, I look at least slightly less dumpy than now.
Anything else = bonus.
Working out on a Sunday afternoon does make one sleepy though. I lost track of the yawns while typing. Probably also fueled by seeing the word “yawn,” almost as bad for causing a yawn as seeing someone yawn.
Did you yawn yet?
Looping back to Bohemian Rhapsody for a second. One, if you’re even just a half-way fan of Queen, watch it. Secondly, it’s easy to forget just how talented and big a voice Freddie Mercury had.
We saw Queen in concert at Merriweather two or three years ago with Adam Lambert fronting the band. Lambert has an incredible voice himself, but still didn’t compare to Freddie’s. Shoot, blanking on the song, but they pulled video of Freddie performing while the band played live, as good as Adam was, just wasn’t Freddie Mercury.
We Will, We Will Rock You. Indeed, sir. Indeed.
Now the time for the cooking of the chicken parmesan. And perhaps one last yawn.
At least you’re yawning after a night of good things.
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