May. 2nd, 2017

improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
Squated one hundred and ten pounds this evening. I increased weight for all three of my exercises. I don't see how I'm going to squat much more than this because I'm putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure on my wrists to stabilize that weight, and I'm fairly sure my grip is proper. I got a copy of Starting Strength from the library. I have weak, puny wrists.

Saw therapist today and she surprised me a bit by focusing on breathing exercises that are supposed to help me sleep. I was quite worried about my ability to stick with these exercises because focusing on my body is so boring. The only way I can exercise for more than 5 minutes at a stretch is simultaneously watching videos or listening to music. I gots to start sleeping or my lifting will suffer.

Today was supposed to be grocery day, but I didn't want to reschedule my therapy appointment or go grocery shopping on a lifting day anyhow. I'm planning on going tomorrow though I know I won't have the energy for it. Haven't decided whether I'll take paratransit or not, but if I do, let's hope I remember to ask for a taxi driver that will not be playing the damned radio.

Right now I am downloading Tails, a security-based OS. It runs from a live USB and leaves no trace on the hard drive, so I can use it to access Google Docs and have secure conversations. There is a similar OS that is meant to be installed to hard drive. Can't remember the name at the moment. I want it on my other partition, but I'm afraid I'll install to the wrong partition again and overwrite Debian.
 
I'm going back to a highish carb diet. I don't feel satisfied eating all these damned legumes, and that just makes me eat more than I would otherwise. And cooking potfuls of beans and lentils is a pain in the ass anyhow. I miss the ease of putting a yam or baked potato in the oven. I'll eat tofu for protein, and I don't think I need 80-90 g of protein per day anyhow.

I've been reading a lesbian novel I bought before the fire. It's called We Too Are Drifting, and damn, is that title ever accurate. Very dry book, not much happening, and what is happening is only palely illustrated by the characters actions. Their actions: so much talking without saying anything and sitting around not doing anything, gives it a very bourgeosie flavor.

The protagonist, Jan, seems to have a lover she doesn't much care about and is just passively going along with the relationship. Jaded and can't focus on her art. 84 pages in, Jan has had tea with someone she is interested in and is still not being forthright with the lover. Lots of ambiguous looks and lighting cigarettes and sipping brandy throughout the story. Who are these people who drink hard alcohol every day.
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