It is possible to go to hell on the road. I had a simple, one-day trip to Atlanta and went to hell, big time. Pretty good fun too. Went to this Boortz lunch…had to get up at 4 a.m. for the plane so couldn’t work out…ate a huge steak at the lunch (excellent!)…got home tired and sorry for myself…ate massivley again because I owed it to myself. Had a beverage or two, as well. Then lay around the next day, feeling sorry for myself. And did not recover and get back on the horse until today. Pathetic.
My only advice: Try, try, try not to go to hell as a REWARD for virtuous behavior. And if you do, get back on your pins faster than I did…at least the next day. Useless advice, I know, but what’s a lout to do.
And tonight I have to face both Harry and my new, Homocide cop/weight trainer. He’s here for dinner and the night, so we can get in an early day of torture in the morning. Oh boy.
Younger Next Year* *turn back your biological clock
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