Uninterested Dick

Week 2 of Insanity Max: 30 didn’t go very well. I was winded really quickly, and I dripped more sweat than I’ve ever done before. It was a ridiculous sight. But I finished my Cardio Challenge, took a shower, and went right back into my kitchen and made a very tasty and healthy dinner. I used my food processor (again!) to make cauliflower rice. I seasoned it with salt and pepper and mixed it in with diced onions that were browned in butter. The “rice” was amazing. I mixed in chopped pork chops in a bowl and made a very simple stir-fry type of dish, and it was delicious. I loved it.

I love that my recipes are increasing. I was getting tired of making the same old shit day after day after day. A little variety is the spice of life, or whatever.

I talked to a co-worker about my culinary pursuits during the weekend, and she was very interested in everything I had to say. I found that funny because before that, she was talking to me about something that happened to her over the weekend and I completely found her conversation uninteresting. I noticed that whenever this happens, I try to gesture or motion or something that it’s time for me to go, but they continue talking and brought right back into their conversation. They won’t let me go. After I was done talking about my culinary aptitude, the superintendent walked in and started talking about something. I honestly don’t even remember. I just remember not caring, so I simply walked away and left.

This would’ve been unimaginable before a few months ago, I think. At least in the last few weeks. Now, I really don’t care. Life’s too short to be around uninteresting conversations, and I know exactly how much this makes me sound like a dick. I. Don’t. Care. Not really. If I’m a dick, then I’m a dick. So what. Right? So what. If you’re interesting, or if I find you interesting, then that dick side of me won’t come out. We will have a very interesting conversation, and things will be right with the world. But if you’re droning on about something that I simply don’t give a shit about, then I’m sorry, I’m going to leave.

And I totally expect people to do that to my blog, if it hasn’t already happened. Shit, I’ve wanted to walk away from this thing for months now, but blah blah promise to myself blah blah. I’m on day 316, which means I have a little under 50 days left. I’m in the homestretch now. I’m a few pounds away from getting back into regular shape, and I think I can get there next week or the week after, if I’m not called out on a fire. By that point, I’m sure I’ll be over 180 by the time I get back. I think by the end of this blog, I’ll be back to rewriting my book. What a way to bookend this thing, huh?