The Future is Acid

HD TV.  5.1 sound.  A DVR full of Top Gear and Black Flame at my side.  Didn't think about work.  Didn't think of wild nights.  Didn't think of thinking too much, as I just wanted to relax with some expensive Cajun salami (quite good, by the way), some of my favorite show and not a whole lot on my mind.  It was a rare event for me, the result of a day that taxed me mentally and physically (those chairs in training are torture devices for my back).  Debating whether or not to see Kick Ass and The Losers.  (The comic of the latter was great up until the final issues.  Trying to figure out when I can see a friend before she leaves for a new life (which sometimes sounds like a bit of a devil's deal) in a much more hospitable climate. 

Today it looks like the clouds are clearing up, which is never a good sign.  I've got about ninety minutes before the torture chair sessions begin. Tempted to take a pill to quell what I know is coming, but don't want to doze off in the middle of an exciting training session.  That wouldn't be good now, would it?

I've got my girl, my girl's birthday party, a race with Mirror, and a meeting with a friend to look forward to.  Beyond that there is sushi outside on my deck, reading in the sun while the hummingbirds put on a show, and a stack of DVDs that aren't reviewing themselves.

The future is acid.

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