I've lived in Oakland most of my life, and continuously for the last 22 years, so I have become a total weather-pussy. Yahoo! Weather says that it's only 76 degrees here today, but it feels like ninety to me. I'm all sticky and logey and bleagh. But that's just because there's no breeze, and I'm sitting here drinking coffee in my darkened bedroom with the windows closed and the computer running. Maybe if I drank some ice-water and took this stupid shirt off... but then I'd have to look at my nasty boobies in the unflattering light of a cathode ray tube, and I'm not up for it right now.
I decided when I was at the grocery store today that I would start my diet... right now. Not next week, not when I run out of cookies, but today. It helped that they had a lot of my dieting staples on sale today (broccoli florets, eggs, bananas, nonfat yogurt, sliced turkey, and tuna); but I think the tide-turner was the Flossboy who walked down the aisle and bewitched me with his adorable little tuchus in pale tan corduroys (a "Flossboy" is a cute boy so skinny that after you're done having sex with him, you can use him to floss your teeth... just in case you were wondering — if they're also short, I call them Pocket Pretties).
So there I was standing in the dairy aisle and this pretty little Flossboy comes sauntering by, short dark hair and tight mod clothes, and I go into a trance staring at his ass (which was a very nice ass, and the very sexy saunter set it off to great advantage); and then when he turns a corner and breaks the spell, I look down at my dust-blue polo shirt tenting out in front of me, instead of my orange board-shorts tenting out in front of me as God intended... and I decided right then and there, no more excuses, it's definitely time to lose this weight.
Not that I would have even tried to talk to the boy if I had been in better shape... but I would have felt better about the possibility of getting caught staring at this ass if I were in better shape. I remember being a Flossboy myself, O so long ago, and I remember how flattering it was to get cruised by a sexy older man but how icky it was to get cruised by a pudgy old toad. I want to be the sexy older man, or at least not the pudgy old toad, so that when the Flossboys and Pocket Pretties and whatever other yummy-type males at the grocery store catch me staring at their asses, they'll be flattered rather than repelled.
So anyway, I couldn't sleep last night, so I got a big chunk of Chapter Four finished at Worst Luck... I was going to keep going, but I figured I had enough to post for the time being, and the rest of the chapter can come later. That was the whole point of doing the rough draft in sections. Heretofore the sections had been made up of one scene, but now the scenes are intercutting each other at greater speed, once scene isn't enough for a section but three scenes definitely are.
When you get a chance, have a gander at Chapter 4, Part 1 and let me know what you think. The comments and suggestions from my readers have been enormously valuable to me in the creative process and the editing process; for example, Will pointed out three blaring factual errors in one of the sections that would have made me look very stupid if I'd left them there.
That's all I've got for today. I'm going to go get a big glass of ice water, take off my shirt, and then lay down so that my fat spreads out evenly instead of humping up in my lap. Then I'm going to go to the gym for some cardio, and then come back here for more ice-water and rest. Have a lovely day!