Yesterday was a bad day. I was in a funk (probably from the weather), ordered equipment for work came in with missing parts (again), a story in the mail got returned when the market it was at folded, and I noticed a poem about cultural appropriation someone had put up that appeared to bash white gay "witchy" males specifically. I fought off feelings of being dead inside by propping up the corners of my mouth with my index fingers and whispering "Let's pretend to be happy."
I went to the gym, although I didn't want to. And did The Old Routine. I've lost a little bit of strength in my biceps, if barbell weight is any measure, but the routine felt good and I wasn't totally wiped out by the end,
Afterward, Mark and I went out of dinner while The Child attended a school function.
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