1.08.2017

Electric

I slept pretty good last night, but I still woke up with a strange tingly feeling like the kind you get when you didn't sleep enough, even though the clock said my vacation to slumberland was ample and I recall dreaming fairly hard. Part of it was probably that I was still energized and amped up from my birthday party show last night, performing with YOUR MOM at the Come Back Inn for my friends. It was a fun time. I don't drink as much beer as I used to, mostly due to my current fitness kick (the rewards of which are substantially inversely correlated with refined carb consumption, including beer). That being said, I had a couple of "medicinal" birthday glasses of wine (refer to the "French paradox"), a few bites of Deborah's artichoke dip bread bowl (I ate the "lid"), and more salty popcorn than I should have at the venue. Notwithstanding, my weight was down a little this morning.

After my 15 minute morning meditation, which Deborah joined me for, I worked for most of the afternoon, returning home about 5 PM. Deborah and I went to the gym by way of a grocery run to Costco and we had a great workout. I ran 2+ miles on the indoor track and did 140 crunches, a personal record to date, and some machine presses. Then we did laps in the pool, which we had entirely to ourselves thanks to the Green Bay Packers compelling case for avoiding the gym. Thusly pumped up on endorphins, I unloaded all the groceries when we got home, subsequently eating some of them for dinner.

"I'm heading out to Funks," I said to Deborah after we ate, referring to the Sunday night open jam stage I sometimes attend. As part of my end of year overhaul of my primary life goals, I have decided to limit my attendance at the Sunday jams to once per month, coordinating with those times when one of the groups I typically perform with is available to play at it. This is to be able to redirect my limited time resources at some other primary goals of greater import (primary-er goals?). I was slated to rock with one of said bands tonight, the Amanda Rickers Band, but a flu-stricken baby sitter threw a spanner in Amanda's proverbial works and she had to stay home with her son. I had a dual purpose in going to Funks tonight though - to hand off some documentation to the jam host, Tyler, who is one of my grad school references - so I still attended for a spell.

I am at the jam right now, in fact, listening to the house band (Tyler's band) MUDROOM jam some tunes. I'll probably bolt here pretty soon though, having already completed the aforementioned hand off of papers. If I could be home by 11 PM, that'd be superb.

I experienced one of the first negative consequences, albeit minor, of my new year's resolution to fast completely from social media. As a result of this abstinence, I did not know that my friends' band was showcasing at the jam. I walked in literally as they played their last chord. I can't say for sure that I would have known about this had I been on social media, nor can I say for sure that I would have been able to get there any earlier than I did, given the way the day's events unfolded. What I can say is that missing their band's set, while not optimal, does not justify the mental aggravation of regular social media consumption.

Ciao!

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