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on orphaned socks

So I somehow lost one of my Drymax socks. However, in my last load of laundry, I did end up with a random sock I'd never seen before.

Am I a terrible person for keeping the random sock and actually using it tonight for my trainer workout when one of my neighbors may be looking for it this very second?

Not a hostage, just "adopted."

Don't answer that.

(And clearly I am having a very exciting Saturday night.)

hello and good night

Let's just say I've been ready for bed since 7:30 tonight. And the only reason I'm not passed out right now is because my neighbor is crying and I can hear everything and it's super awkward and it makes me wonder if everyone can hear me when I cry and now I'm trying to remember the last time I cried and thankfully it wasn't here in this thin-walled apartment and also it wasn't a sad cry but a happy cry, so I guess it was a different situation entirely.

Also, I'm awake because I had to do a massive amount of laundry. Yes, folks, I have started working out again. And even though I'm averaging about 3-5 hours a week (compare that to 16 when I was training for Ironman), I guess it's better than nothing. And I've become completely obsessed with hot Pilates (it's pretty much all the core work and clam shells and squats and hip and glute strengtheners that I should have been doing this whole time but never quite got around to). Unfortunately, hot Pilates results in an insane amount of sweaty, smelly spandex and towels. So laundry. Always laundry.

And I'm back on the trainer again. And running. And sometimes I think about swimming. Thinking is exercising my brain, so that's got to count for something, right?

Anyway, here's to the year ahead and to slowly digging myself out of hibernation. And with that, I'm going to bed.

This is my coworker's new puppy, possibly my spirit animal.