Mornings with Moaning and Whining

I got up, stole one of Pup's t-shirts, and went down, down to the Dungeon. Waded through the little spider webs that pop up daily (oh that's so ick), and did my morning workout. Watched the news as well. A tofer. I'm toned here AND there.

I keep forgetting where to breath. Inhale on the approach; exhale on the effort. Sometimes I forget to breath altogether.

It's very easy to talk myself out of going down there because, well, because I'm ME after all, but habits are developed with repetition so I am a repeating BORE at this point.



Don't laugh! You'll be jealous when MY arse is hard and round as an apple. Or is it a peach? Men's asses are apples and women's are peaches yes? No wonder I'm confused. That is way too much fruit.

It's all good.

It's all good until I go upstairs to make my COFFEE and look what I see.

Yep, yesterday's laundry. Still hanging on the line.

Is there something I can do to stretch my mind? Ha!
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