This is a Micro.blog test post from Obsidian—don’t judge me, dammit.
And to the person I have to blame for this: you know exactly who you are, and awesome work. ;)
I'm not the droid you're looking for.
This is a Micro.blog test post from Obsidian—don’t judge me, dammit.
And to the person I have to blame for this: you know exactly who you are, and awesome work. ;)
Good news: I’m down to 244lbs.
Bad news: I’m sick and haven’t walked in three days.
If I have to break out rice cakes and water to not lose progress, I’m gonna be pissed. At least I’ve tested negative for COVID, though my view in the mirror is no less flattering.
Man baby mode: activated.
The world needs more words. More stories and moments to reflect. Words are the heartbeat of our emotions and intelligence—dreams made manifest. They speak to our very core, and instil us with passion. Words are raw in their power, and inspiring in thoughts they provoke.
Words are immortality.
One of my favourite times of the year is fast approaching; the switch to standard time. There’s a peacefulness and serenity to nighttime that I completely love. When the incessant humming of constant busyness is replaced by the quiet whispers of autumn breezes, and rustling leaves. 🌃🦉
A beautiful photo montage from today’s walk.
Caved today and bought myself some new jeans, a belt, underwear, and a couple of t-shirts. Seeing the totals at the till, I was quickly reminded of the fact that weight loss is expensive when parts of your wardrobe no longer fit.
I should’ve become a nudist.
Current home and lock screens:
Welcome to the duality of weight loss, where you can be both ecstatic and irritated that your pants don’t fit.
This does not inspire my confidence in humanity.
49 Sol orbits officially completed.
And to think I don’t feel a day over 49.