Grrrr....

The guy who minds the gym when the owner isn't there just closed it down 1/2 an hour early. I'm just pelting along watching Future Weapons on the Discovery channel on the little TVs over the treadmill when I suddenly realise the guy is turning out the lights, turning off the fans and there's nobody left in the place except me. I only got 20 minutes in tonight. Because this goomba closed up shop 1/2 hour earlier than he was supposed to.

9 pm on Fridays. That's what the OWNER told me.

Grrrr.....

I can't go on the weekends. They close at 6 on the weekends.

Rassum frassum....


Also the scales they have there don't work, because there's no way I've lost 63 pounds since I started doing this. If I had, I'd be in the hospital and my mother would be insisting I have anorexia. And while that may be the best of all possible worlds for a lifetime lard-butt like myself, kind of like giving AIDS to an Immortal from Highlander, even I know there ain't no freaking way.

So. If I've lost any weight I still don't know how much.

Not that I particularly care, but certain factions would be reassured by tangible evidence of progress.