Today was a bit of a lazy day. I decided to take my bicycle out for the first time of the season. It's not a nice bicycle at all. It's an 18-speed Huffy that cost me seventy-five dollars from a guy on Facebook Marketplace who flips bikes for the students at the University of Wisconsin. What I noticed is that, when exercising, I tend to get a ton of phlegm, to the point where I either have to stop and spit it out, or to where I choke on it. It also sometimes hurts to breathe. Pretty much, exercising is extremely uncomfortable and I finally scheduled a doctors' appointment about the matter. My parents probably would have called me a fat coward and have done nothing.
Besides that, honestly, not much is going on. This is the last weekend in a while where I won't be busy with something, between my trip to Las Vegas next week, Furry Weekend Atlanta, Easter, getting the keys to my apartment in St. Paul and registering the car, my cousin's gymnastics tournament, a concert with the Sun Prairie Area Concert Band, a camping trip at Wapsipinicon State Park in Iowa, and actually moving to St. Paul. Heck, even this weekend is busy; I'm driving to Milwaukee to meet a good friend of mine from college.
You think there's gonna be nothing else to talk about, is there? Well, too bad. There is. It's just gonna be random stuff now about how my mind works.
I currently have, in my bedroom, among other things, a body pillow of Hobart, a body pillow Marky (a hot dragonborn character I have from D&D), and Marcy, a three hundred and seventy-five dollar pool toy of a cougar from Horseplay Toys. I find myself talking to all three of these inanimate objects more than I should. I've spoken to Marcy about my day plans, I've spoken to Hobart about my moving plans, and I've told them how much they mean to me. Sometimes I find myself wondering if these sorts of relationships with inanimate objects are damaging to my mental health. They're just fabric, they're just plastic, and yet... I just like talking to them and they give me great comfort and I'm honestly not sure if that's okay or if I should talk to someone about this. I'm afraid I'm gonna get more attached to the official Hobart body pillow than people.
Speaking of, with this relocation, I'm hoping to find more people to do... adult stuff with up in the Twin Cities area. I've gotten fairly well known in Madison group chats by this point, but it's all for naught with my move. I understand I'll have more friends in St. Paul, especially Zeph, my raccoon friend who means the world to me, but also, I still sort of have to build up more relationships from the ground. Hopefully it's easier with the fact MNFurs exists, though they don't cover any... adult matters I might be wanting to concern myself with.
I've been listening to a lot of Jimmy Buffet at work recently, and I have the song "The Last Mango in Paris" stuck in my head. It's been there for two days. Maybe I'll have to pull it out at a furcon karaoke or something. Regardless, southwest of Pittsburgh, there's gonna be a cabinet in a substation that was wired to Jimmy Buffet music. Hopefully it doesn't look like I had one or two many Boat drinks when I'm done with it.
The next blog post will likely come after I return home from Las Vegas. If not, it'll be while I'm packing. Regardless, this blog will eventually have Nevada content on it! Wow!