As a self-proclaimed headonist, I find that nothing quite compares with the delicious sensation of ice cold needles of water cooling one's heated muscles, the therapeutic blasts of water from the showerhead which seem to flush out the exhaustion from every pore, and the languor which one feels afterwards is sheer bliss, a delight to the senses. Whoever said that baths, particularly, cold ones, after exercise is bad for the body is, in all probability, completely numb, or ended up stiffer than petrified wood after having allowed the sweat to dry on his body like superglue. This blog of mine probably came half a century too late for this person. But honestly, how can something which feels so good possibly be bad for you? Hehehe... let's not answer that.

On a more mundane note, I was all set to blog last night, but I realized as soon as I faced the monitor that my eyes just wouldn't focus. Seriously, i'm beginning to think that buying anything at all on a Friday is perilious to me. Last week I ended up with the wrong pair of shoes, this week, it was one of the pair of contact lenses which I purchased after I managed to overcome my miserliness and after my opthalmologist recovered from her shock at how much my last pair of contacts resembled an ecosystem, which ended up defective. The lens just blurs the vision of whichever eye it's in. What's worse is that I must be the only person in the world to end up with two defective lenses in less than a span of an hour, see, the one I brought home was already a replacement for the first one which happened to be deformed, so I have no choice but to bring it back on Monday to be changed yet again. It's either I ought to avoid buying anything on a Friday or Durasoft took offense at how the contact lenses I bought from them a year and a half ago ended up like an atrium and decided to answer insult with injury. This time the astigmatism i've been diagnosed to be afflicted with isn't to blame, see, I only have it in one eye, and the accursed lens blurs both eyes for heaven's sake, it was so bad that I kept on hitting the wrong keys on the keyboard, and yes, I touch type.

With regards to the heated muscles i've been talking about, that was brought about by a realization two nights ago which i've been meaning to post before sheer exhaustion and brain drain due to dredgy clerical work at the office prevented me from writing about anything which could be considered to have an i.q. higher than five. I've come to appreciate more than ever that one of the best things about my relationship with qs is that he and I can actually appreciate beautiful women together. We enjoy admiring and exchanging opinions on the attributes of women in general, supermodels in particular, and seeing as how i'm a headonist, I actually appreciate this aspect of our relationship. The funny thing is that I don't get jealous and I don't mind that qs can consider other women as beautiful, as long as they're supermodels that is... hehehe. I mean, they are. Anyway, the latest conversation we had about this matter were the abdominal muscles on these models from the Czech Republic, I think. After I saw the stomachs (can those still be considered as stomachs? I thought stomachs were used for food storage, but they don't look as if they place anything in them so it's debateable) of those women, I felt inspired and decided then and there that any remaining amount of flab left in that section of my body had to go, the way qs supported me on this matter made me even more determined, so now i'm in the process of changing the nationality of my belly. I officially want that part of my body to be a citizen of the Czech Republic.

Okay so maybe i'm a little obssessive, one can't deny however that exercise increments the endorphins in our bodies, and when one is as moody and as high strung as yours truly, then headonism has its uses, I need all the happy hormones I can get. At the very least, i'm not aspiring to be a Britney Spears lookalike which would be a direct insult to my beloved Theology 151 teacher, Ma'am Parco, esteemed chair of the Theology department, who is as much of an acolyte of Frodo (even though he's practically an atheist, the word 'Lord' in the epic 'Lord of the Rings', notwithstanding), as I am an acolyte of her, and who thinks that Britney Spears is, in her very own words, the epitomy of headonism. How I would love to sit in on her class should the cataclysmic day arrives that Britney happens to end up as one of her students.

Besides our mutual admiration for beauty, another thing which I am highly grateful for when it comes to qs is that he doesn't attempt to retaliate when I use his butt as a punching bag to vent my restlessness on, an activity which I discovered only this afternoon in a fit of annoyance, neither does he seek revenge when I pinch his butt in public. I guess he's too much of a gentleman even if i'm not, gentle, or a man, that is.