We’re having another unusually cold spell and I’m not sure I really want to walk in the 40° weather to the clubhouse for this morning’s workout. I would still rather be too warm than too cold. 

I had a dream Tom was raised to $18 an hour. When I told him about it when he got up, he said that wasn’t possible. Someday, yes, but not this year. Well, hopefully soon enough we’ll find out if he’s even getting a raise for sure. 

The second dream was the usual negativity filled with nig-induced legal woes from hell. 

Tom took me out for a nice dinner somewhere before going to court, not something I would voluntarily do unless I was the plaintiff. Then it seemed like we were going down a street we used to live on. A part of it was really steep and I thought of how scary it might be to ride my bike down. But as quick as that part of the dream began, it ended and I was in jail. 

The girl was walking me through a large dorm. I don’t know if this girl was an inmate or someone who volunteered or worked at the jail, but it seemed like her job was to get me situated there. We walked past rows of twin-size cots with tiny shelves or dressers between them. I saw radios and other torturous instruments that would no doubt keep me awake or at least annoy the fuck out of me when I was awake. 

I guess I was charged with two things but I hadn’t been sentenced yet. I’m not sure what the first charge was, but the second one was racially motivated and I was horrified at the thought of having to spend about a year in jail waiting to be sentenced, and then another year, as the girl suggested I might have to if I was convicted. 

She spoke with much contempt in her voice, particularly when she discussed the charge that had to do with race. 

Later… 

I arrived at the clubhouse 5 minutes late and left early. I overheated and my HR soared and pounded, though I never got scared or panicked in any way. They just keep it WAY too warm in there. Also, they’re really nice ladies but I’m getting sick of the same old shitty music. Shirley said Janice, who was my favorite there, left and I might, too. Yoga, aerobics… that just isn’t me. I prefer to keep it simple. No counting. No routines. Just lift weights or throw on my sneaks and hit the road with the music of MY choice. Seriously if I hear Blueberry Hill one more time I’ll scream! 

I think I have enough variety in walking, running and bike riding. Plus I have the Bowflex. I’m always going to be 30 pounds overweight no matter what I do, so none of this is doing me any good in any way other than to keep me healthier, and stronger, and give me more stamina. I have joint issues if I’m too inactive. Despite being flexible for my age, it’s sad how much mobility I have lost due to being heavy and aging. 

But dead thyroids don’t come back to life, genetics don’t change, and people don’t get any younger. So as they say, I just have to change what I can and accept what I can’t. 

Unless it’s too hot, cold or raining, I’m not a big fan of working out indoors. I like to be out in the fresh air. 

I was cleaning the master bathroom earlier and I pushed a little too hard and got the toilet brush stuck in the toilet. Yes, only I would do something like that. I didn’t think I was going to be able to get it out on my own at first, but with a little maneuvering, I lodged it free. 

Note to self: Don’t ever do anything so idiotic again, ok? 

I put the central fan on and opened the bedroom window to push out some of the chemical smells from the household cleaners I used, and then I brought the diffuser in there afterward. So now vintage roses are wafting throughout the master bath and bedroom.