March 3, 2004
Mightie Tightie Whitie
Anne and Amy and I went to the rec center tonight, and I kicked my ass on the excercise bike for my alotted twenty-five minutes. I realize it isn't much, but it makes me feel a hell of a lot better about myself.
We went swimming after that, and I nearly drowned trying to play water basketball, much to Anne's amusement. I was given a choked laughter re-enactment shortly thereafter.
I've neglected my quasi-duties today, as most days. All I could think about was having woken up in Mike's bed, inches from his warm frame, and a desire to return to that half-sleepy stage when we are smacking limbs and lips, dream-thick irises barely registering the flesh and blood of the morning. This world was not meant for working, for separations with the rising of the sun and the insistence of the alarm clock. If only eleven o'clock could be eternal.
I have a mid-term tomorrow, and I'm attending the Women of Colour Celebration luncheon with Denise, my ex-professor of Women's Studies. She's a delightful woman, and the program should be interesting. I feel a bit guilty, as I'll likely only get to stay for the lunch and the first part of the program, as I have to leave early for aforementioned exam.
I haven't studied. It's English... essays are impromptu, in my opinion, and I feel as prepared as I'm going to get. Poring over my notes will only waste my time.
What few notes I've taken.
I'm a sort of a satisfied tired. I enjoy excercising... it's just the getting around to doing it that I find difficult. I'm going to get up in the morning and go again, early, when no one is there as I'll be without my support in Anne.
I just want to feel cute.
I feel guilty for that. Silly, too.
astera at 11:08 p.m.