After walking for 101 consecutive days, I have not had a chance to do any exercise walking. Walking at the mall is not an option, since the mall is such a joke here. Walking outside is also not an option. There are no sidewalks, and people here don't observe speed limits. Plus, a day has not passed where it has not rained. It is raining right now.
And if I got on that exercise bike right now, I would be so bored I would want to kill myself.
Complicating things is my mood, which currently is absolutely foul. There is a gay pride festival in Harrisburg, which is not far from where I am, and I won't be there. I don't know how to get there, or about parking, and it would be quite a stretch to let my aunt and uncle know that I wanted to go there.
And the crowning jewel of all this is that, for some reason, the countdown on "AT40" (from 1980) seems to be overloaded with love songs. Not the best thing for me to be hearing, since I, as usual, am beating myself up about that too.
Anesthetizing myself with junk food seems to be the only option, which I have been doing since I got here. I am guessing that my metabolism is taking care of it, though; in the last twenty-four hours, I have needed the Reader's Digest four times. Although I have felt fat in the evenings, I am usually fine the next morning. And right now I am so queasy that I don't want to eat a thing.
My aunt and uncle are at church right now. So I have moved the XM boombox out of the bedroom and am using it here in the dining area. They will be home at 11:30. I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. Let's see if a movie is playing anywhere here.
I hope my next blog entry is a little more upbeat.
Eric Out.
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