Tri - Again.

Triathlon has taken a major hit. I have spent the last week and a half in sleep dep. And charted out the wonders of the seven minute mile on every run. But the six eludes. I neither run, with any frequency - Nor bike. So my damn goals are not being met at all. And I am getting fat and slow and thick and boring. One of these days I will kick it up into gear again. Not today. I have a business that needs to go out of business without me. And a life that needs seriously to get a kick in the pants. Why is it that the important stuff never gets done? What is wrong with me?

Responsibilities, human and professional - draw me and frankly I am beginning to wonder precisely what kind of person I really am. Why is it that I can make time for things like pondering how cool Bill Richardson would be , if he were to be president.

On the plus side I finished something for a church in Atlanta. (assumes voice of bill murray/ caddyshack): So I have that going for me. >:) I won another minor little contract like that last sunday. Nice little side work. Lets me stretch out and do graphics design instead of corporate bondage and discipline that we refer to as 'administration'. Its funny how a reputation begins.. this one in particular was well accepted almost from the comp level forward. If only they knew what I do in second life... >:) then they'd really buy from me!

Ok. I want to get back into it so ..I think I need to clear my mind. Here goes: I hate horses. I hate cleaning stalls. I hate running. I hate Karl Rove. I hate anonymous riders. I hate people talking on their cellphone while they are looking at their children. I hate barnacles especially on your rudder. I hate piccadilly's restaurant on senior citizen night. I hate tattoos except my own. I hate ants that swarm in your bathroom sink to get drunk on your mouthwash. I hate housework. I hate people who steal my dog and feed him steak. I hate abortion. I hate registration fees. I hate taxes. I hate old carpet. I hate the sound of a broken computer fan. I hate loneliness. I hate suburbia... (breathes, ... breathes ... ) ... I hate seventies interior design ceilings. I hate cheap wooden floor. I hate pergo. I hate squishy pads under carpet and ill constructed buildings. I hate drought. I hate dead batteries. I hate to-do lists. I hate Harlan Ellison. I hate aspergers syndrome. I hate playing the guitar with soft fingers. I hate missing a chord. I hate people in the choir who can't sing. I hate child abusers. I hate awkward, stiff conversation at dinnertime. I hate people who hurt each others feelings at six am in the morning before they say good day. I hate Australia. Most of it. Except sydney and the surfing. I hate kelp. I hate my left leg. I hate blowing veins out of my foot. I hate age related sickness. I hate black toenals popping off. I hate leather that doesnt stay stitched. I hate Sasha Baron Cohen, esp. because he fooled me twice. I hate watching TV. I hate sitting around and doing nothing. I hate Georgia. I hate spam. I reaaaaallly hate spam. ok. I DESPISE spam. .... wait. If the whole of the earth, with the person responsible for spam - chained and trapped upon - were to be consumed within the orbit of a bloated, swollen red star that has become our sun - and if within that orbit the red perimeter of our class G star in its final death throe - were to gradually edge over the surface of our planet like a deadly sunrise from hell - burning all that it touches and searing the very DNA itself of spammers off the surface of the earth, scattering their virus-like genetic material into ash , blasting the atmosphere into the solar wind - ripping our planet apart until everything is consumed in mortal flame.... and then, in that instant - our sun turns its core to production of Iron 56 and goes supernova, blasting them to the four solar winds at the speed of light to live out their life forever as a next door neighbor to hydrogen, who only wants to talk about how clean his new club cadet lawnmower can cut a circle around the rosebeds in his backyard... it still would not be enough.

What else. Ah. I hate people who don't take their meds. I'm talking about blood pressure. I hate people who can't fix themselves. I hate the panic attacks. I hate not having the panic attacks. I hate pain. I hate suffering. I hate fear. I hate darkness. I hate archangels who think they are such hot shit that they create the entire realm of evil and destroy the trust of god. I hate anyone who can't tell the difference. I hate rednecks. I hate paying for car washes and not getting a full car wash. I hate sticky dead bugs. I hate things that don't make sense. I hate not being looked in the eye. I hate looking in the mirror. I hate looking at my car. I hate driving my car. I hate the fact that people don't let us ride horses instead. I hate thinking about saudi arabians getting rich from people like me destroying the planet driving my car. I hate the 285. At rush hour.

I. hate. everything. about you. why. do I. Love you?


UPDATE 6/11/07: I hate reading blogs aloud to a girl sitting next to me. And then looking at her in the eye at the last moment. and reading. the last. lines. to . her. Directly to her. I reaally reaally hate what she said, but I love the fact that I feel like I have to tell you.

She said. "What if they hate you"? .. "And then throw you into a hole." .. then she said .. "And say 'Hole in one!!' " . We laughed.

Update: Just to make sure my hell-spawn minions that stalk me in the night are well fed and cared for, here are my goals again for the month. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Best possiblities are the bike, because I +hate+ the run.
..

Goal	Initial	Date Attempt	Results..
Sub 6 Mile	9	5/26	6:30 hills (6/9)
Sub 20 5k	35	5/26
Sub 48 10k	50	6/02
Pls 21mph 20mile	18	6/10	pls 20 mph 10 miles. (6/2)
Pls 19mph 40mile	17	6/10

>:)