Happiness lies in mediocrity
I have been wrong, it seems. Don't do what you love; seek quiet, respectable anonymity in your work, and find your passion elsewhere.

I suppose there's happiness, then there's happiness. Nemko is speaking of contentment, not joy.

Not that there's anything wrong with contentment, I suppose -- after all, I've chosen it for fifteen years, haven't I? But then what? Do this for another twenty years, then pass into the dark, having done nothing even I'm truly proud of, let alone achieved fame or fortune?

I don't want fame or fortune, really. But I don't want to die with the knowledge that I've risked nothing, tried nothing, been an entire waste of a life's time.

Eh.

Today's weight: 128.5 pounds. Temperature 97.2?F.

Ran this morning for a bit over 20 minutes, with the dog. He was very good! I chanced leaving him off the leash, and he listened when I told him to sit, waited patiently at every intersection, did not run suddenly across the road at any time...

The moon was full and bright, still hanging in the sky, and there was frost on the grass. Frost. This has been one of the oddest summers I've never experienced. Not that I am particularly enamoured of Southern Ontario's traditional sauna-like two months of steamy humidity, but neither am I a fan of cold. Feels as though I'm going to be plunged right back into winter without ever once having been truly warm.

Food thus far:
one, 1/4 cup 8-grain cereal with vanilla s/f syrup and a bit of sugar-free black raspberry jam; 1 cup scrambled egg sub with salsa. Instant coffee.

two, 1 cup egg sub frittata'ed with onion, spaghetti squash, flax seed, with tofu mayo and pancake syrup.

three, 3.25 oz chicken, cooked up fajita-style with some peppers, onion, garlic, lime juice and spices, with a tablespoon or so of frozen edamame (just because they were there, a tag-end in the freezer), accompanied by a large dish of Romaine with grape tomatoes over which to pour it.

You may have noted (or, heck, you may not) that I am no longer including the "sour shot" in my meal records. That's 'cos I am no longer including the sour shot. Don't know about nutrient partitioning, but it was inarguably disagreeing with me in some fundamental way -- necessitating a burst of cardio as I zipped to the bathroom almost exactly twenty minutes after every meal so accompanied. Yeah. So much for that...

I have also abandoned the ZMA. I forgot to take it for a couple days, and the bloating round my tum seemed to abate very slightly. Since stopping it altogether (about three weeks now) I've lost over an inch round the waist. I am now taking melatonin, though, cos the ZMA definitely made me sleep better even if t'was keeping me apple-shaped.