The body is sore, and somewhat burnt. I’m logging some miles on the bike–taking the “long way” home from work, or spinning straight home and heading right out again in the direction I barrelled in from. Sunday the sun had it’s way with me during two hours of soccer, and again last night when I recruited Greg to play some footie in the park. We ended up playing with a group of kids that were not only skilled, but hilarious and polite. We slapped hands at the end and vowed to meet up again. I love being sweaty and physically exhausted. I love it so much that it’s stupid. I love it so much that it’s keeping the migraines at bay so far this week.

I’ve developed an incredible obsession with steamed rice. I consume this every day for lunch, and sometimes for dinner. Perhaps this isn’t very creative, but it is delicious. I prefer eating with chopsticks anyway. There’s a trip to the grocery store in my future tonight, so I hope the journey will provide some inspiration, or variation, for the meals to come. I also hope that I get caught in a thunderstorm on my bike ride there.

I’m falling behind on people I need to call, and things I need to work on. I can’t help it–the weather is too nice; I can’t stay indoors. My to-do list is humorous. I keep forgetting that I made one to begin with. Plus, I’m still(yes, still) floating around with a grin on my face thanks to the weekend that just passed. A sweet little picnic in the park, old friends/new friends, bike riding out the wazoo, and a cook out for two that turned into a party for fifteen. I love this life, I really do.

Today while departing for my lunch break(to obtain steamed rice, go figure), I found myself in the elevator, inspired. This hit me like boom. I had no paper, no pen, no one around to borrow such from. I did the next best thing. I leaned against the elevator wall and grinned to myself, letting that feeling of being moved/inspired/ready to create wash over me in droves. I clutched a new project, new concept–tucked it under the wing and into a corner of the overflowing chest. Something to tackle, for later.

Of course I have more than this to say, but I’m not sure how to word it here(which is how it seems to go in this medium nowadays, so forgive me). More soon I’m sure.