So, I sent out some Christmas cards today.
Dear Grandpa Max,
Sorry I didn’t include a note with the hardcover my mom asked me to mail you. Media mail doesn’t allow for correspondence. So I thought I’d drop you a line and see how you’re doing. I hope you have a very merry Christmas! Oh, guess what? I’m writing a scandalous tell-all memoir about our family. Much love,
And then I wrote to my psychiatrist:
Dear Dr. Phlegm and staff,
Thank you for keeping me sane in an insane world for another year. Oh, hey, what do you think of those new schizophrenia drug commercials? I like to act them out.
“I feel like everyone’s watching me.”
“Don’t worry! You’re not alone, and Fanapt can help.”
Dr. Phlegm’s been pretty depressed lately, I suspect due to the coronavirus costing him income, so hopefully my imitation of the Fanapt commercial will cheer him up.
In other news, after 24 hours of research, brainstorming, and experimentation, I conquered the issue of having to wear a mask to the gym. I have a black cloth mask. It’s sort of like a surgical type mask, but black. I finally realized that if I take a Dixie cup and cut off the bottom of it (and a little bit more to make it shorter still), and then if I put the Dixie cup’s top edge around my mouth (between my face and the mask), I can freakin’ breathe while exercising.
And my mask still covers all exit areas, so I’d guess it’s safe for the coronavirus. It pushes the mask away from my mouth and creates an air pocket. It also makes me look like a person with a snout, but oh well.
So now I’ve been going back to the gym, because I also found my little music player at long last. It’s time to get down to Motownphilly. I’m just discouraged because it takes all my energy to burn 100 calories. I can do that twice a day, and I’ll try, but how will burning a mere 200 calories help much? I probably eat 2,000 calories a day or so, and I’m trying to lose weight. It feels hopeless. But I’m not ready to give up. It’s just frustrating that I lack any innate athleticism and I always have. I was aware of it at the tender age of thirteen. And what I mean is that I have no energy for athletics, no cardiovascular strength, no flexibility, etc.
When I was thirteen, I’d been taking ballet three times a week (ninety minutes each time) for the past nine or ten years. I’m glad I took ballet. But it was arduous for me, and on the rare occasion that we’d do aerobics for the class period instead of regular dance, I was dying. At thirteen! And then I saw some classmates do deep leg bends with their arms overhead while onstage rehearsing for our musical, and I knew that if I went down like that, I’d never come back up without help. At thirteen! Despite having been in ballet all my life and having grown up with Granny Franny’s below-ground pool, which I always loved swimming in.
So now I’m afraid that my complete lack of athletic ability is going to hinder my weight loss abilities. I got upset earlier because I was researching the benefits of cardio, and the article said, “Cardio’s great for weight loss, because you’ll burn several hundred calories in one session.” And the lack of morale kicked in, because my treadmill at the gym says I’m lucky to reach 100 calories. I think it’s accurate, too, considering that I’m walking 3 mph at a 15° uphill incline for ten minutes. I literally can’t run more than a few steps. In fourth grade, I was in a race and I came in last place. At least I could run then!
Okay, well, I’m dwelling on the negative here. My dad wants to take a walk now, so off I go! Ohh, he’s playing with his Christmas train in the kitchen. I hear its horn tooting!