Just mixed up a big batch of homebrew pale ale, which is cooling in a bucket in the bathtub so I can add the yeast and starting waiting for it to gestate into beer. That, and I recently caved into my creeping sense of apathy and let my gym membership lapse, saving me $50 a month and leaving me to my own devices, fitness-wise. Which is probably for the best -- toward the end, I was getting horribly bored with the weight machines, and started doing lunges and push-ups. Which require no weights and no machines and no gym. I resolved to stay in some semblance of "shape" anyway, but the Italian soup Janine whipped up tonight (of which I devoured two enormous bowls) bodes ill. Good thing the New Year isn't far away -- I had a good resolution a couple of years back, maybe I can make another one.
Doesn't look good, though -- I'm slipping into that awful, no-pressure, carefree comfort zone in which I don't even feel like keeping in shape's that big a deal, but damned if anything's going to keep me from this book! Something about an briar patch...
