Walking, Limping and Lying. Today, I cancelled my plan of going to the Bronx Zoo. Once the TV comes on, I become Mr. Lazy. Around 4:33pm, I left my shoebox/cell to walk around my neighborhood. My plan was just to walk along Kingsbridge Road for about 30 minutes, then return to the shoebox. I ended up walking to a large national shop (think bullseye for company logo) located here in the Bronx. Door to door, the walk was about 30 minutes one way. I was bored, so I bought some videos:

* Meet the Fockers
* Muriel’s Wedding
* Kung Fu Hustle

I forgot one of the two shopping rules:
1. Don’t go shopping when you are bored.
2. Don’t go (food) shopping when you are hungry.

I guess you can figure out which rule I broke. After returning to my shoebox, I made a pot of white rice, and boiled a pouch of curry (from Japan). I thought the rice came out pretty good. It did not stick to the pot, and the pot was easy to clean. I is much easier than making rice in that rice cooker.

My plan was to row while I watched the movie Kung Fu Hustle, but I got too into it. I rented the movie when I was in Japan, unfortunately, that copy did not have English subtitles. But, I still enjoyed the movie even though I did not understand a single word that was being spoken. I told myself that I would rent (or buy it) if I could find it cheap (without buying an illegal copy). Sorry, sidetracked.

About 9:00pm, Mr. 40+ knocked on my door. He told me that he was going to the hospital, and if his lady friend (see the previous blog entry)came to pick up her things, he left here things in the hall closet. What is going through my mind at this time? Does he really think I am stupid? But, I didn’t say anything. I knew that strange lady would be knocking on the door soon. I also knew that it would probably happen while I was on my rowing machine (swimming in sweat). Since I was watching the movie, I got started late on my rowing machine. I started at 11pm.

I have to say that I am proud of myself, for the past 3 or 4 weeks, I’ve been consistent with exercising. I don’t think I’ve missed a day. It sounds strange, but I think I own my consistency to my plastic suit. After an hour rowing in my suit, and cleaning up all that sweat, I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Sorry, I am getting sidetracked.

I finished rowing about 12midnight, and while I was standing with my plastic suit full of sweat, the doorbell rings. Although (with the added sweatbands around my ankles and wrists) the sweat stayed inside the suit better than ever before (I managed to not leak any sweat on the newspaper under the machine), I did not answer the door. There was no reason for me to answer the door at midnight. Either “Screamer” or “Boyfriend” answered the door. Didn't know which, and I didn't care.

About 20 minutes later….

Are you ready for this?

Mr. 40+ returned.

Is anyone shocked or surprised? Not me.