Sluggish

I watch NASA scientists on Devon Island pretend to be on Mars. I wish I were going with them, but I doubt that’s on the list of possibilities for this lifetime.

I am a slug. I have not read today. I have spent the morning doing physical therapy and picking up Eddie the Cat from his second round of chemotherapy. Then, lunch with Buck, which contained mostly carbohydrates: macaroni and cheese, toasty things, and beer. Nobody else is eating carbohydrates these days, so I must pick up the slack. I am carbo-loading. Now I have to find a marathon to join, but the prospect of propelling myself 26.2 miles at once is a bit laughable. But it’s enjoyable to pretend I have a normal foot.