floating in a tin can

Im pretty anxious to start writing. I am doing something that has been done before a thousand times: a concept album. Except this concept is going to be developed into a short story which you will be able to read while listening to the album (depending on how fast you read). Its quite an ambitious project, one that might take me about a year to completely work out. Im hoping I finish by the end of the year. I guess it just takes a bit more gusto. Like working out… who would have thought I would be exercising forty minutes a day? Not I. Tell me that a year ago and I would have laughed heartily at myself. Of course, I miss some days, and others exercise maybe thirty minutes… but the fact is I am turning it into a routine. I mean, eating is a routine that is so common place we dont even ahve to question whether or not we ate at least once in a day. So I dont think it should be that hard to make exercising the same thing.

When I work out, one thing I keep telling myself is that Im already there, but I have so much further to go. I envision myself being more fit, getting better at design, and getting paid MORE to do what I love…. I am there, but I have so much further to go. Remind me of a poem I memorized in junior high, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (what a verbose title!) by Robert Frost. “And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.” Damn, it makes me tired…

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