No wonder Japanese people are so skinny! The Japanese snack mix arrived yesterday and it’s incredible how small the portions are compared to snacks in the US. Definitely not worth the money but makes for a fun experiment. There are only three out of the 37 pieces I don’t like. I don’t see how any human being on earth could possibly put a wasabi nut in their mouth and not feel like they tossed a lit match into it! They look like green peas and when I suspected they were actually wasabi nuts, I licked at one with my tongue to be sure and could feel a burn just doing that. Some of the snacks are weird-tasting but still good.

After this, I want to try to drop the wine, flavored sparkling water, pasta, and sugar for as long as I can stand to. The wine and the pasta will be easy.

Still not sure whether or not I want to focus on just getting the recommended number of zone minutes each week or focus more on the length of time. Zone minutes are easy. I can get half of them accidentally with my high HR. I can get more than I need with just a 15-minute workout. The question is whether or not I should up the time to 45 to 60 minutes. More isn’t always better, especially when you’re metabolically fucked as I am.

Over 2 million dead now from the virus. At least that we know of. In poor countries where they can’t afford to do so much testing, I wouldn’t be surprised if the real numbers were closer to 4 or 5 million. While that’s a huge number in itself, it hardly puts a dent in the population which is still climbing faster than it is dying.

Been listening to the usual sounds here… traffic, planes, and landscaping. The commercial planes haven’t been as bad lately due to the virus, but yesterday we had our usual 4-hour trash and recyclable pick-up and they’re also working on the new house. Still. Wonder just how many more months they’re going to be working over there.

Another thing is that someone’s been leaving a dog out during the daytime that I’ve mentioned before. I would think Dixie would be able to hear it loud and clear. Luckily, Virginia’s house blocks most of it, so I don’t hear too much from that or the house workers from the room I mostly work in.

I don’t know why but I’ve been having this feeling lately about dying in 2038. But that’s only 17 years from now and not the 20-something I would have guessed. Can’t say for sure whether or not it really means anything but I’ve been having this feeling lately. I suppose anything is possible and even if it does mean something, I’ve already lived a long time and 17 years is still a long time left as well.

Although it’s a little earlier than planned, I decided to make my Facebook account more private. There really is no need to be public although I’ll still do public stories every now and then that disappear after 24 hours. I almost always get views from a non-friend and I always used to think it was Kim, but since she hasn’t been online, I guess it could be anyone.

Still excited about the move but nervous as well. We still don’t know if we’re flying or driving or if we’re going to start off in a park or not. I would love to think that we’ll get a beautiful, peaceful place but I don’t think we’ll get the “ideal” place. I think we can definitely find something quieter than this, though. I just feel like I’m not meant to have the ideal place but don’t know if it’s by design or happenstance. But an improvement is certainly better. If it’s a little quieter and it’s cheaper, then great.

I ignored the email the Sundae rep sent apologizing for getting my hopes up for nothing, and yeah, it does suck. A traditional realtor is going to make things a lot harder for us and slower as well.

I had a dream that he and I were hanging out at home as usual in a place that didn’t look like this. I hadn’t worked out that day. Finally, I convinced myself to at least do a short workout instead of being lazy. I passed a room where he was working out, sitting halfway up on a couch and twisting his torso back and forth. I then entered another room to find that Tom had pulled out an old scale even though it was still digital, and it told me I was 133 lb even though I knew I was 136 lb.

Then he finished working out and came out of the other room to tell me that he heard something in the news that meant that Nervous was probably receiving payments on account of and I reminded him that he was dead.

“Oh, is he?” he said.

“Yeah, he died at 53 of a heart attack. You must be thinking of my other old friend Fran Paiva,” I said even though he’s also dead.

Then Tom asked me if I wanted to go out to some cookie factory or something like that and I agreed.