Oh, my aching head

You know, sleep is good. Sleep is an excellent thing. I really have to realize at some point that I am not 19 anymore and cannot effortlessly absorb staying up until 2 AM on Saturday without there being painful repercussions for days afterward. I just went to my Hub's office to steal some Excedrin. I dropped the bottle, spilling pills everywhere. When I finally got them back in the bottle and grabbed two pills for myself, I promptly dropped them. I was pretty worried that I was going to drop the water, too; when I'm tired, these days, I get pretty damn clumsy.

Water is another thing. Currently guzzling water. Even though I don't sweat nearly as much on weight-lifting days than on cardio days (by about a bucket's worth, I think), it still takes away crucial moisture. Combine that with the tired and the heat and oh, I'm so headachey.

On the up side, I noticed last night that I have quads. I mean, seriously, I never saw the damn things before, and lo, there they are; there's this little swoop on the side of my leg right above the knee. My evil calves seem to have trimmed down enough to show off my insane amount of muscle there, because I can make them change shape alarmingly by flexing my feet up and down. I can't see the back of me, so I can't tell what my hamstring-type muscles are up to, but I poked at them and they poked back, which seems encouraging. Arms are definitely less jiggly than they once were, and I can see more muscle peeking out from under the fat layer.

This bodes well. It seems to indicate that even while losing my mind to the "I can eat like everyone else does!" lie this past month, the exercise is still doing a good job. Muscle is good. Muscle is very good.

I have to admit, I have developed a rabid hatred for females of a certain body type-- the slender, streamlined ones that look like they've been made out of some kind of firm rubber. You don't see bones on these chicks, you don't see fat bulges, you don't see muscle, you just see an expanse of featureless, changeless skin. Nothing sags, nothing bounces, nothing moves, nothing pokes out. It's creepy. We have a few of these here in the office and while they're perfectly nice girls, I can't escape the feeling that they were poured into a mold and had skin spray-painted over the top, and that soon their alien overlords will send the command to kill all humans and these girls will smile perkily and smite us.

I understand fat. I understand skinny. I understand muscular. This body type, though, I do not get at all. I do not understand how it is possible, or how they are powered, and yet I see these girls everywhere. I fear what I do not understand, and I hate what I fear, so I have a powerful hate on for these gals. It's not nice of me, and it's not good, and I need to get over it. Gahhhhh.

I'm currently also full of hate toward various people at work. This probably has to do with the fact that they're bothering me while I'm tired and headachey and I don't want to deal with their petty shit. I should probably go home. Sadly, I have a big meeting in about half an hour. Possibly curling up under my desk and having a cry would help. Sigh.