I was working out over my lunch break and ran into my neighbor's kid who is home from college for the summer. He asked me to spot him on bench press. Oh, before we go further, this is not gonna end with any hot locker room action, so some of you (Bodhi) may want to move on. Where was I? So we're talking after and he asks me if I always work out during lunch. I say, "Yeah, at least four days a week." He comes back with, "Man, you really have life by the ass. A nice house, nice car, you set your own hours, you don't answer to anyone." I laugh. He goes on, "You vacation a lot, you buy what you want." I laugh again. It's funny to see your life through someone else's eyes. I do have all the things I thought I wanted when I was his age. It's funny how what you want/think you need changes over time. I wonder. If I would finally get the man to share my life with, the one I'm always pining for, the gentleman on the street/whore in the bedroom, would I then whine about my loss of independence? Will the carrot always be just out of reach? Or will I reach the point that I think, no FEEL, that yeah, this is IT? I wonder.
ADDED: OK, I know this joint has been a lil' heavy on the manscaping chatter lately, but one more and then I'll stop. For a while. This is gym-related, though, so I'm tacking it onto this post. Just tell me something. If your chest is a vast expanse of barren, but for about five long hair tentacles around each nipple, wouldn't that just drive you batshit crazy until you shaved them off? Are we from the same species? I just can't imagine ignoring that even under wraps, much less shamelessly flaunting the areolar eyelashes in the locker room.