it happened. I should have a party. Pity. Maybe I can convince someone to do a Friday night movie marathon next week to mark two months.
It feels like a curious day is brewing, and there is great temptation to pull the covers over my head and avoid the daylight. It was a quiet Friday evening at Casa del Gato y Chingón. I watched Lost in Translation. Great film, and honestly, I don't care what Bill Murray whispers in Scarlett Johansson's ear — it's the joy at seeing two misfits connect that makes that film a favorite. Bittersweet? Bet your ass. Maybe that's why Saturday feels like a potential summer bummer, hot as hell and quiet if I let it be so.
But I can't let the day get away, and I can't slough off some facts:
•I need to get my ass moving and do some serious walking today, despite the heat.
•I've got to clean the apartment. Just because I'm a boy doesn't mean I have to live like one.
•I have to double down on getting better.
Ditching the quad cane was a great breakthrough, but there's been real danger there. It's almost too easy for me to think I'm all better now, I don't need to exercise like a crazy, I can quit walking my ass off and everything will be fine, just fine. I can feel a small part of me starting to ease back into old ways and that simply can't be allowed.
This really is the hardest part of the journey so far — the temptation to declare Mission Accomplished and do a victory lap and forget any of this happened. It almost makes me want to forget the goal of winning the boon. That would be easy to do because it's hard, and down inside I think all humans are lazy and prone to making life as carefree as possible. We all want to live a simple life.
Screw that noise. Another lesson learned from May 5 and its immediate aftermath: Life isn't meant to be easy. It sometimes makes you wince. But anyone who wants to breeze through is living a dream, where actions don't have consequences and impunity is a good thing. Fuck that.
Off my ass now. Off to make happy on my own. I've got something to prove.