25 Minutes To Go
Its the title of a Johnny Cash song about a guy awaiting execution and they keep counting down. Its the opposite for me. In 25 minutes or so I won't have to come into work until next Tuesday, thats almost a week of being as lazy as I want to be. I can't wait. It can't come soon enough. Just 25 to go.
Plans for tonight are to hang out with Brett. He's coming over and we'll get some takeout and hang. Chill with the dog. Tomorrow night, John Mayer & Sheryl Crow in concert at Jones Beach. Rest of the week, who knows, who cares. No work. It doesn't matter.
So I've been at my parents house all week, and it has its perks and its drawbacks. There's central air, which is a perk, and I get to spend time with Keyser. Downside is, he has a way of getting on my nerves quickly. But he's cute, so he redeems himself. Other downside, they only have a crappy old exercise bike to workout on, and the little computer thing on it is fried, so the only way I can keep track of how I'm doing is the old fashioned way, by watch, or by the playlist I use, which is exactly 45 minutes. But I also can't keep track of how far I've gone, speed, calories, any of that fun stuff. Oh well. I'll be back at home and on the elliptical in no time. I'm curious how I'm doing this week too. I usually weigh myself, unofficially every morning to keep track of how I'm doing. See what works and doesn't work food and exercise wise. Can't do that this week, as there's no scale at my parents. I think I may have to head home Friday morning to weigh in officially. I'm very curious what it'll say. All my clothes feel looser than usual, and I've been behaving myself at my parents, so thats all good.
Alright, back to work, and only a few minutes to go.