A note for those of you who read my journal in the mornings: I tend to make additions to my entries during the day, so you might want to go back and check the previous day's posting to make sure you don't miss any of the exciting details of my life (ha ha). Those nifty arrows at the left will take you to yesterday's page.

I'm finally getting my daily routine figured out. Yes, I'm a routine-oriented person. I have dozens of little routines that I fall into every day, from my waking-up routine, to my getting-ready-for-work routine, to my writing routine, to my net-surfing routine... You get the idea. I'm not so routine-fixated that my world falls apart if something interrupts my routine, but this way I can coast through the uninteresting parts of my life. But, I digress. My daily routine has settled into a nice relaxing schedule of wake up (insert sub-routine here), get dressed, go to coffeeshop and write for about an hour, come home, get online and check mail etc (another subroutine), do something for lunch, go workout, then if it's a workday GOTO get-ready-for-work subroutine, if NOTWORKDAY then GOTO be-a-slug routine. Though part of the NOTWORKDAY routine is waiting for Tiffany (the roommate) to come home and then we'll usually go walking or running or decide maybe to look like total idiots and go skating.

I continue to lose weight. Another pound down. I know I shouldn't be weighing myself every day--should only do it on the weekends or something, but I'm allowed to be obsessive about something, I figure. I went to the gym that I actually pay for today. I've been paying dues to this place for nearly a year, and haven't been there in almost that long. It's about damn time I start going again. I discovered, to my pleasure, that the place is nearly deserted at 2:30 in the afternoon. I hate a crowded gym (partially because I'm overly body conscious right now.) I also seriously detest it when some "well-meaning" male comes up to me and offers to show me how to work out. Excuse the piss out of me, but even though I'm out of shape now, I've been working out for a helluva long time, and I don't need anyone to show me how to do an arm curl. Funny, I never see these "well meaning" souls going up to the overweight old men to show them a trick or two.

I got another 800 words or so done on my story. I think it's going to end up being longish.

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