Random Thoughts On A Thorsday Eve

I’m so done with being a good boy and ready to celebrate my belated birthday. I feasted on Del Taco for lunch, and now I have this red velvet bundt cake that serves two. While I’m savoring half of this decadence with a healthy dinner, let me riff on a few things on my mind…

The physical exam went better than expected. No issues whatsoever. I also had a great discussion with my PCP regarding my weight loss. She advised me to contact a plastic surgeon to remove the excess skin off various places on my body. I told her I already plan to do so once I reach my target weight range, regardless if insurance will cover it for valid medical reasons. I expect that to happen in about two years. 

I want to look scrumptious if I ever appeared in Mistress Maddie’s Candy Shop. Well, in my dreams anyway. Even if I magically got a ripped body when all is said and done, I’d need to guzzle a tanker truck’s worth of liquid courage to pose for one of those risque photos.

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I don’t mind doing blood work as needed, but I’ll never get used to the fasting part of the deal. I hadn’t eaten anything in fifteen hours when I had five vials of blood drawn, so I hope people waiting their turn understood why I ripped open a ThinkThin high protein bar and ate it as I walked out of the lobby afterward.

The lab results are in but they haven’t been officially reviewed. The great news is I didn’t just beat my hidden disability. I knocked it the fuck out with an AC1 that’s now a 4.8!

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Earlier this morning I buried my sister, and mortality is front and center in my head. My brother is declining and may be headed to an assisted living facility soon. My sister has her own health issues, while I’m trying to get into the best shape of my life. 

I fear that within five years I’ll be the only one left standing, which explains why I’ve been so aggressive about getting what I want out of this life. People are free to believe I’ll live a long time, but I’m living as if I’ll be in an urn in a decade. Tomorrow is never guaranteed once you’re eligible for AARP, right?

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The MINI throuple is also going well. I just learned how to check their oil via their center console displays, and thankfully neither Miku or Artoria are chugging oil like a Kia. Their levels are just below the maximum even after nearly three months of driving. 

Artoria got washed this morning, but sadly I fear she’ll be dirty as soon as tomorrow. The next door neighbor’s tree is shedding leaves and pollen, and the latter is already congregating on her roof again. Ara ara!

Miku got driven in both Sport Mode and with manual shifting yesterday, and holy hell I loved it so much I did the same with Artoria today.

I also love how Artoria “protected” me this morning. While driving to the lab, I got a popup warning from the MINI Connected navigation system that there was an accident a mile ahead. It even told me multiple vehicles were involved and that lanes were narrowed because of it. How cool is that? I think I have the service until January 2026, but I’ll gladly pay for it afterward.

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This finale includes spicy stuff. Here’s your chance to turn away! 

Okay, if you’re still here…

Like condoms, I have a love/hate relationship with online dating. I know I’ll be popular upon my return now that I look good in my selfies once again, but then I recall some of my prior OLD experiences and blush like a roma tomato.

I’ll put this as delicately as possible. Most men use apps like Match, Tinder, and Bumble to meet people. When you’re also eligible for places like SizeQueenLove, your dating experiences are quite different no matter what service you use.

I’m more of a Charlotte York than a Samantha Jones, so I’m NOT looking forward to reliving some of those younger, wilder escapades. Pray for me that I meet a nice woman (or man!) that won’t try to get me in the sack on the first or second date. If I fail that, I might end up in a situation that could make Mistress Maddie blush!