Day One Hundred Sixty One (dia cento sessenta e um)
14 Março 2014
Since we didn’t end up going to Ribeira Grande I got to sleep in (no, this luxury doesn’t get old and I am trying to enjoy the time I have left!). When I did get up, I ran 5 miles and then went to the gym with John and Ken. After a totally haphazard gym week, we did Back Day. After we hit Pic Nic, we went home where John got back in bed and I made Larabars.
I also got the brine ready for my Corned Beef & Cabbage that I was going to make on Monday. I couldn’t find brisket, so I thought that I bought stew meat. I had actually bought some nasty, chewy, on-the-bone beef. But it would have to do. I melted down sugar and salt in a sauce pan of water and added garlic, bay leaves, cloves, and cinnamon. I let it cool completely before I put the beef in it. I headed off to class.
While we worked out we discussed the weather for Saturday morning; it was supposed to ran again thus prohibiting me from running in (and potentially WINNING) the Ribeira Grande Women’s Day Race. I just couldn’t bear the thought. We decided who was riding in which car and exited Toronto with promises to go the next day unless it was raining. We would leave at 9:00am.
I went home to eat dinner alone (a delicious stir fry with ground beef, lots of veggies, and cauliflower “rice”) and then indulge in the Best.Bagel.I.Ever.Ate.In.My.Life that Lina had handmade.
She saved two for me and two for ken. I managed to only eat one and save three for John and Ken. And Majid.
After I came down from my gluten-high, I walked Romeo and went to bed. I (hopefully) had a big day the next day. Ken and Majid came over after practice to retrieve their bagels.
Day One Hundred Sixty Two (dia cento sessenta e dois)
15 Março 2014
I got up early to pack a bag with clean clothes and snacks. It wasn’t raining, so it was game-on.
We were going to have lunch afterwards and then drop Julia in the city for her own track event, so I wanted to be prepared. I walked Romeo and grabbed a cafe grande at Pic Nic before I met Lina in the Toronto parking lot, we went and grabbed Julia who told us her mom had walked to Toronto, so we scooted back to grab Luisa. I had seen Liliana at Pic Nic earlier and she told me she was on her way to Lola’s to go in her car with Leila and Telma. Everyone was going.
We got to Riberia Grande around 10:00am and they were just starting the warm-up, which consisted of a group of out-of-shape ladies doing tae bo. Remember that?
I was sizing up my competition and feeling pretty confident until a couple of high school track girls showed up, wearing their team jerseys. Damnit.
After watching about 30 minutes of aerobics, we headed over to the starting line.
I spotted a photographer and got the girls to pose with me. He came right over, “I understood you,” he said in very good English. “Oh! You speak English,” I said, excitedly. “Yes, but I understood that you were posing because you would like to have your picture taken.” Ding ding!
In addition to the two track girls, another woman appeared who made me a little nervous; she was tall, slender, and wearing Nike tech capris and Aasics (no one here wears name brand stuff). It turns out she is the president of the athletic association who organized the race, and while she may be a competitive runner, she didn’t actually participate in this run.
There are some horribly dorky pictures of me standing with my GPS watch at the ready, waiting for Leila to tell me when I could begin.
The gun went off and a few of us took off sprinting.
I was behind the two track girls, another younger track girl, and an 8-year-old boy. There was a different route for the walkers, and the little boy took the short cut. Not long after, the younger track girl fell behind, then the other track girl fell off, too. It was just me and, I would later find out, Beatriz. My plan was to stay on her ass until the end, and then book it. If I passed her and then she passed me, I knew I would run out of steam before the finish. The first guy I asked told us it was 2km (1.2 miles) but then someone else told us it was 2.5km (1.6 miles), which it was. I finished my first mile in 6:36 (PR!). There was a hill after the second turn, and I figured it had to be close to the finish. I thought I had her, because hills are my bitch now. As soon as she got to the top she took off at a sprint—she must’ve known the finish was soon. I tried to catch up to her, but by the time I saw the finish it was too late. Here you can see Beatriz finishing and me rounding the corner.
And then me. I finished 1.6 miles in 10:52.
As soon as she crossed the line, she took a quick right and threw herself onto the ground. I ran over to her screaming: “Parabens! Bom trabalho!” Congratulations! Good job! And in English: “You won!” but she wouldn’t move. I turned around and saw my friend the photographer waiting for her. I threw my hands in the air, “I came in second! Take my picture!” He very nicely responded, “She won, she must get up. I need to take her picture first.” “But I’m standing!!” I screamed. I went over and tried to pick her up off the ground, still screaming.
In the background you can see my friend Beatriz, to the left of me, on the ground. Maybe I could have run faster.
Lina, Luisa, and Julia had taken the walking route, and were at the finish when I got there.
Lola finished next,
and finally Telma. There was a Step aerobic class scheduled for after the run, while they got the awards in order. Lola tried to participate, but much like the tae bo, they weren’t actually instructing as much as they were putting on a show. She soon got frustrated and waited with the rest of us.
We waited and waited and finally they changed from Step to Zumba and we waited some more. Along with the Zumba came some more trying to participate from our group, but after the 5th song or so, we were all done. I just wanted my second place prize and to go eat lunch.
Finally, FINALLY, they stopped the Zumba-ing and began the awards. They called up Beatriz first, and another high schooler second. OMG, OMG! This meant she was in a different age group than me, and that I had WON my own age group. Me and my 7-person entourage began jumping up and down and screaming with joy. Beatriz enjoyed a rowdy applause. The next age group was called, and the next. To our surprise, they called Telma for 1st place in the Seniors age group (wait, was that my age group? Telma is 22…I am 25…). Our Telma? We couldn’t believe it and neither could she.
She gracefully accepted her flowers and took the podium. Our group, again, erupted in applause. The second and third place winners had already left, so the announcer asked that friends or family members of those runners come and receive the awards on their behalf. Lina grabbed Liliana and they took second and third place.
The announcer asked them to please pass on the trophies to their rightful owners. Lina handed hers back laughing; “I don’t even know them!” We were clearly having the most fun.
The last group to be called were the Veterans; two ladies who looked 50+, and no third place winner (no third place participant!). They thanked everyone for coming out and put down the microphone. WHAT?
Chaos ensued amongst my group; they hadn’t called me up! Luisa immediately went for the announcer and began yelling in Portuguese, “THIS IS A SHAME. THIS IS SHAMEFUL. My friend came from SO far away to participate! You must DO SOMETHING.” As she was yelling, I walked over, “You saw me finish second!” I yelled to the guy, who’s name is Miguel and is now my Facebook friend. “Oh, yes I did. What’s your name?… Oh, I read the wrong line. I’m so sorry.” Telma gave me her flowers and trophy so I could at least get a picture on the podium.
Luisa and Lina were still talking to Miguel and I was just prancing around holding Telma’s flowers. We all got on the podium and took more pictures.
Telma who doesn’t speak English (she claims), turned to me and said perfectly: “Eliza. Give me my flowers back.” I laughed until I cried.
Miguel procured some flowers and a trophy for me and we made it official looking for pictures. He asked me to compete in another event next month, but I will be back in the states by then. I don’t think he cared so much about me participating as he did about me bringing my posse. Somewhere there is a video of me kicking little boys off the podium just so I could take a picture holding Telma’s flowers. While I obviously wanted to be recognized for winning my age group, I think the way it happened makes for a much better memory.
Lola, Leila, and Telma took off in Lola’s car back to Povoacao and Liliana came with me, Julia, Lina and Luisa to the city. We went to McDonalds for lunch and it was delicious. It was totally packed, and as soon as I ordered a chicken McWrap and a bowl of spinach and chickpea soup (only at a Portuguese McDonalds, Lina joked) I knew I should’ve ordered more. I was starving! As soon as I finished eating my first lunch I got back in line for another wrap.
We still had time before Julia needed to be at her own track event, so we went to Portas do Mar for coffee. While it had been overcast in Riberia Grande (and was supposedly pouring in Povoacao) it was absolutely gorgeous in Ponta Delgada. The sun was shining. We sat outside for cafes and then went to drop Julia off and return to Povoacao.
John and Ken were away at a juniors game when I got back, so I showered, snacked, and took Romeo for a long walk. I found Rui near the beginning of my walk and he provided company for the rest of my walk. I got him to sing to me. His English is much better than my Portuguese. His singing is also much better than my singing.
When I got back, I finished getting ready and then Leila picked me up. We were going to Telma’s boyfriend’s house in Ribeira Quente for dinner. I had called Pedro from my Skype app earlier and told him I’d pick the boys up at the gas station in Furnas, on the way back from the juniors game. Leila had some missed calls (I had given John her number) so I called the number back from her phone. It turned out to be the captain of the junior team, and they were just a few minutes away from the gas station. We picked the boys up and headed to Luis’s.
We laughed and laughed about all the ridiculous things that had happened at the race. Telma had put a picture of her flowers and her trophy on Facebook with the caption: “I don’t know how… but I won!”
A little while later Lola and her husband, Lino, showed up, along with Lola’s brother Helio and his wife Alexandra, followed by Dino and his wife, Liliana. We snacked on a tuna dip and olives that Lola had brought until Luis went to Dinis’s bar and picked up wings and french fries. He took orders for the bifana sandwiches, too.
All of the girls who were there (Lola, Leila, Telma, Alexandra, and Liliana) come to my classes. We laughed about some of the things that happen when we are there, like why we call Alexandra “Equilibrio” (pron: ick-e-li-ber). We call her this because she couldn’t remember the English word for balance, so she said the Portuguese word with an American accent (this actually works for some words, like “relaxe”, but not all), Equilibrio (proper pron.: ick-e-li-bru).
Alexandra also tried to tell a story about when I had yelled at her the other day. Sometimes she gets a little wild-and-crazy in my class, and she yells at her sister, Berina, more than she works out. She was doing this the other day. She is telling the story, and she says “And then Eliza told me to ‘squeeze my shits!’”. We all burst out laughing. I asked John if he could guess what I really said to her. No? No guesses? I had told her to “Get your shit together”.
After we ate lots of chicken wings, chips, fruit, and bifana sandwiches,
we put our coats on and went to Dinis’s bar to get cafes, shots, and pay for our dinner.
John was fading; still sick and now also exhausted. Leila had not gotten over her cold either, so I asked her to take us home. Liliana said she had some lemon tea that would help, so we piled into two cars and went to her and Dino’s house. Leila dropped me and Liliana off and then went home.
We went inside where she gave me lemons and then Dino drove us home. Not long after we got home, Dino messaged me and asked if John and I wanted to go to Furnas the next day. I wish! John was a mess and I had 12 miles to run. Maybe another time.
Day One Hundred Sixty Three (dia cento sessenta e tres)
16 Março 2014
I slept in because I do that now but also because I was exhausted from the night before. John and I were celebrating three years since our first date, and I was going to cook bacalhau. I headed up to Fatima’s to get some frozen cod (because that’s what Lucy told me to buy) but messed up and got the salted kind instead. I’ll tell you what that means later. But mainly it meant that we couldn’t eat it.
I was graced with a beyond beautiful day for my long run—only problem was that my legs felt like they were trapped in a vice. My calves were pulsating (pulsing?). I took Romeo for the first mile, stopped to stretch, and continued on my way. I ended up stopping again just before I hit mile 5, after I completed the hardest section of lomba do Alcaide because my legs were so uncomfortable. After a few minutes of stretching (and enjoying the incredible view!) I was on my way to finish seven more miles.
John was at Pic Nic watching some EPL games, so after I showered and ate (eggs and veggies..all day every day) I got ready to meet him and Ken down there. I checked out the “frozen” cod that I had bought earlier and realized that while it was rock hard, it was not cold. How could that be? I opened it up and felt the salt water smell hit my face. Damnit—salted. That meant that I had to soak it for at least three days before I could cook it. I guessed we would be having something else for dinner.
Originally, John had asked Lina to cook for us, but then she had to go to Ribeira Grande for her nephew’s birthday. That’s when I decided I would try to cook bacalhau. On to Plan C.
I had just walked in the door at Pic Nic when Lina messaged me asking if I was home. Not two minutes later, Filipe, who was sitting next to me, said that Lina was outside. She and Julia were waiting outside with fresh, homemade fofas. “Happy Anniversary,” she said. Love.her.
I headed home to start brinner, because we love pancakes, potatoes, and eggs. John also wanted to try a banana ice cream recipe he found on Pinterest, so he cut up and froze some bananas which we blended up with Nutella and a little soy milk.
We watched Adult Children Of Divorce which I thought was hilarious and John didn’t.
Day One Hundred Sixty Four (dia cento sessenta e quatro)
17 Março 2014
Saint Patrick’s Day!
Finally: tattoo day! I got up early so I could run 5 miles and shop before we left for Ribeira Grande. When I was out running, the lady who sweeps my street (instead of unemployment, the Portuguese government gives out jobs like “street sweeper” in 6 month contracts) called out to me; “Parabens!” translation: congratulations. “Facebook!” she called out, as way of explanation. And then “Taça! Taça!” which means cup, or in this case, trophy. Good news travels fast!
I went to Casa Cheia and Antonio’s because Mira Mar is no longer paying Fatima for our groceries (or more accurately they never have…either way, she’s not going to give us groceries for free anymore). I scooted home to try to make some peanut butter before we left, but I ran out of time once I had ground the peanuts down to crumbles. That would have to wait.
We went to Pic Nic where we met Ken. Carla and Joe came in right after us, so they sat with us. Vitor came in and told us we would leave in 10 minutes. We ran home to grab the leftover fofas from Lina to add to the other (healthy) snacks I had packed for the day. Once we were in the car, driving through Furnas, Vitor asked if we had been to Pico de Ferra before, which is an observation point. None of us had, and since we still had time, he said he would take us. We drove behind the Furnas Golf Club and up a steep hill. And up. And up. Until we finally peaked out over the top and Vitor immediately parked.
You could see all of the Lagoa das Furnas and out to the ocean. It was a gorgeous view and we hit it on a beautiful day.
After we enjoyed the view for a few minutes, and took a bunch of iPhone pictures, we hopped back in the car.
John was still sick so he asked Vitor if he would take him to Continente (there is one in Ribeira Grande, too) to get some cough medicine. We were still early by the time we got to Ribeira Grande, so we all went to Continente first. Ken found Guinness which he bought for the St. Patrick’s Day feast we were having that night. We grabbed Halls for John and then headed to Rafael’s.
This is the second time I’d been there, so I knew it would be very cold inside. We waited a few minutes outside before he came down from his apartment next door. He had just drawn up my flowers from the pictures I’d sent to him. It was gorgeous. He put it on the transfer paper and then John helped me place it on my right shoulder. Go time.
I laid on my belly for just over an hour while Rafael did his magic on my shoulder. I think it hurt more than the other tattoos I have, but I can’t be sure. John talked to Rafael about one more tattoo he wants, and he said we could come back the following Monday. Vitor said we would go get ice cream in Ponta Delgada before we went back to Povoacao. It was another stunning day at Portas do Mar.
Vitor’s girlfriend, Carla, goes to the University of the Azores in Ponta Delgada. She and some of her friends met us at Portas do Mar where we first ate cachorros and then grabbed ice cream—I know, I know!!—before we got back in the car. I got a maracuja flavored soft-serve and it was bomb. Carla and her friends got ice cream from Burger King.
At that point it was 5:00pm and John and Ken had practice with the juniors at 6:00pm. We raced back to Povoacao in time for John to change and run down to the Camara where they get picked up and then turn around and walk straight home; practice cancelled. Not enough kids. I rinsed my beef off and set it took cook on very low while I was at class. I also cut up potatoes and carrots to boil in beer and spices while I was gone.
When I got back I took the potatoes and carrots out of my broth and put my chopped cabbage in. John, Ken, and Majid came over and we feasted. Majid is Muslim, but he took a short hiatus from some of his religious obligations while here in the Azores. While he never ate pork, he did drink some. Apparently he is back on the Muslim band wagon and isn’t drinking. I told him I cooked the veggies in beer, and at first he didn’t believe me. (But it loses almost all the alcoholicc content when you cook it, right? And then I drained it, yeah?). He looked upset, but he ate my veggies.
After dinner I pulled out the fofas and told Majid they were full of pork. THIS he believed; “But it looks like there’s just chocolate on top…”
All three of them headed off to play futsol at Vietnam and I laid down to watch The Boondock Saints alone. John came home and finished watching it with me.
Day One Hundred Sixty Five (dia cento sessenta e cinco)
18 Março 2014
My legs were still killing me from sprinting Saturday and then all my runs since then. I crawled 9 miles up lomba do Alcaide. As I was leaving for my run, I asked John what time he was planning on going to the gym. 11:30am, you say? What a shame, I won’t be back in time. No, no. Don’t wait for me.
When I got home from my miserable 9 (the sun was out, so I’ll take that as a win!) I ate more sweet potato and white bean veggie burgers, showered, and met the boys at Pic Nic. When I got home I painted my nails, went down and visited Carla, got a new gas tank, Skyped with my cousin and finally went off to the gym. I went really early so I could foam roll my swollen calves. Nike+ has titled this week of training “Test Your Limits” with a total of 45 miles, and I still had 31 to go.
John is still sick. Romeo is still a weirdo.
I warned the ladies that the next day was my 100th class, and was sure to be a doozy.
I went home to a quiet house—John was at practice. I Skyped with my adorably pregnant friend Cathy in California, ate dinner, and went nuts on Pinterest looking for a recipe for John’s birthday dessert. See what I made on Wednesday.
Day One Hundred Sixty Six (dia cento sessenta e seis)
19 Março 2014
I got up before John (usually the case, but this day was extra important!) to decorate. I used the only paper we had (lined) and the only writing instrument we own (pen) to make a banner for our bedroom doorway.
Then I taped the leftover bow from my Valentine’s Day flowers with a note to the bathroom mirror. After a quick breakfast, I was off to do 7 more miles.
After my lengthy foam rolling session the day before, I felt great. I finished my 7 miles with a pace more than a minute/mile faster than my 9 miles. Hallelujah.
When I got back John was just getting up. He was surprised he hadn’t heard me decorating. He was still feeling sick, and told me he needed just one more rest day before he was going to 100 percent. I went off to the gym alone.
I did two mini circuits for four rounds each (weighted dips, push-press, hanging leg raises and SL RDLs, butterfly squats, decline sit ups) and about halfway through my second circuit, Ken showed up. “Where’s John?” he asked. “Didn’t he text you?” I asked. Apparently, Ken had no internet. We wondered if in addition to groceries, Fatima had also cut off their internet access due to lack-of-payment. Not five minutes later, John showed up!
I finished up my circuits and headed home to shower. After I met the boys at Pic Nic for my cafe grande I went home to make a cake (YES a real cake with butter and sugar… and wheat flour!) Martha-Stewart-style.
After spending what felt like hours on Pinterest and allrecipes.com, I finally decided to make a trifle using Martha’s Dark Chocolate Cake. I didn’t actually have a trifle recipe, and I’d never made one before. I decided to use chocolate pudding, vanilla pudding, and chocolate frosting for the other layers. I bought chocolate pudding (Instant Jell-O brand) at Casa Cheia the other day, so I stopped to buy vanilla at Antonio’s on my way home from Pic Nic. I got a Portuguese brand because it was so much cheaper. I couldn’t really read the directions, but understood the ½ liter of leite and something about mixing until dissolved. Very good.
When I got home I whipped up the cake batter (almost) following Martha’s recipe. I didn’t have brown sugar, so I used ½ cup less white sugar plus some honey. I also added some instant coffee and cinnamon instead of vanilla. While it was baking, I whipped up the puddings following the Jell-O Instant (and English!) directions. Five minutes later the chocolate pudding was pudding-like, but the vanilla was still totally liquid. I had, of course, thrown away the directions and changed the trash bag, so I went to google to see what I had done wrong. I googled “Boca Doce Baunilha Pudim”. Sure enough, this was not instant pudding and I was supposed to have boiled it before letting it set. I took it out of the fridge, transferred the pudding to a sauce pan, boiled it and mixed it, and then returned it to the fridge. I didn’t think it was going to end well.
In the meantime, I took the cake out of the oven for about 15 minutes so John could toast up some bolos levedos, and then I put it back in to finish baking. The cake ended up more dense than fluffy, kind of brownie-like. Probably because I messed with the cook time. But whatevs, brownies are good, too.
While the cake was cooling I made a Chocolate Frosting recipe I found on allrecipes.com. Once the cake was cool, I divided it into three sections.
I cubed the first section and put it on the bottom of my “trifle bowl” (read: my salad spinner with the spinner removed. #ghettofabulous).
I then covered that layer in chocolate pudding.
Then I cubed the second section of cake and spread it out on top.
Since I didn’t have any vanilla pudding yet, my trifle would have to chill like this for a while. I made a giant salad to go along with our smorgasbord of goodies for the evening and headed off to teach my 100th class.
I ran over to Fatima’s on my way home and got Instant Vanilla Jell-O pudding and beers. I quickly cleaned myself up, and finished making my trifle (vanilla pudding, cake, chocolate frosting).
I walked Romeo and then scooted back to Toronto to pick up the pizzas that Lina had made for us. I went home to meet Leila who had brought wine, vegetable quiche, and the biggest apple pie I’d ever seen. We sat down and drank until the boys came home from futsol.
John and Ken had to shower when they got home, but we dug into the quiche as soon as they walked in the door. Leila and her mom, Lucy, had made it and it was delicious. Lina’s pizza is always amazing and she made my cheese-free pizza with whole wheat crust, because she is the best. Toronto isn’t even open this week, but she said she would make pizzas for John’s birthday anyway. After we had eaten dinner, Ernesto stopped by with a tray of homemade cinnamon buns, also a la Lina. #dowehavetogohome?
Majid came over, too, and he couldn’t believe Lina made the pizza (Lina made one with no pig products for him), and we couldn’t believe he’d never had it before (Ken said: “Welcome to Povoacao”).
After we finished eating our faces off, Vitor and his friend Tiago came over, but I couldn’t get them to eat (we had SO much left over food!). I put candles into my trifle (mud pie?) and we all sang to John.
I still couldn’t get Vitor or Tiago to eat, but the rest of us enjoyed Lucy’s apple pie and my trifle. Which was super rich and much more dense then any trifle I’d ever had, but John loved it so that’s what matters. I somehow managed to get all the leftover food into our fridge and around midnight Leila said she was leaving. I told her when she left I would go straight to bed. Which I did. While all the boys were still in the kitchen, I crept into bed and read Wheat Belly.
Day One Hundred Sixty Seven (dia cento sessenta e sete)
20 Março 2014
It was either all the excitement of the day before, or all the wheat in my belly, but I slept until almost 10:30am. It was raining, so I decided to run after the gym. John and I got ready and headed to meet Ken. Back Day. I packed a few glass jars with leftover mud pie/trifle and gave one to Ernesto. I brought two more to Pic Nic for Nilson and Monica. Nilson? We thought his name was Ernesto. I tried to tell John and Ken before that I thought his name was Nilson, and Ken finally decided to ask. I should’ve made a bet (because Ken is always wrong. For such a smart guy, he makes really poor bets). Ken couldn’t understand how we called him the wrong name all these months and no one had ever corrected us. Because they’re too nice, I tried to tell Ken. Just like they all call me “Lisa” and I never correct them. They are too nice.
We brought Ken home with us to help us eat leftovers. I got ready to run and took off before I could think too much about it. It wasn’t really raining anymore and I briefly thought about dropping off my long sleeve when the sky opened up and it began to pour. Nevermind. The rain stopped, the sun came out, and then it rained again. I finished 5 and went home soaking wet. After I showered, I heated up some quiche for lunch. Then I heated up some more. It was really good.
I brought some apple pie down to Carla, because Leila refused to take any home with her (“We made two!” she told me). I also cut another huge piece and put it on the plate Ernesto had brought the cinnamon buns over on. You’re never supposed to return a plate or tupperware empty, right? I would bring it to Lina when I went to class.
I had to do a follow-up questionnaire for the Institutional Review Board at Northeastern for research I barely got to do a year ago. It took me so long to get approval that my group hardly did any research. Now that my approved project is “ending” I have to tell them what I did. I almost completely forgot about the project. I went through my notes from 11 months ago and filled it out. #gradschoolproblems
I finally was able to cook the bacalhau I had bought on Sunday. It had probably soaked long enough by Wednesday, but we were having pizza for John’s birthday so I had let it sit one more day. It definitely wouldn’t be salty. I rinsed it off and boiled it in milk for 5 minutes, just like Lucy told me to do. I then put it in a pyrex full of azeite, cebola, y aho (olive oil, onion, and garlic) and put it in the oven on super low for about an hour. I was going to have it for dinner, by myself, when I got home from class. John had practice. John also needed my phone to make a phone call, so I took his iPad. His iPad that only had 4% battery. Greaaaaaat.
Because I use a bluetooth speaker, his iPad managed to last the whole hour. I got home and made some veggies to go with my bacalhau and Skyped with a woman in Massachusetts who might hire me when I get home.
She is a friend-of-a-friend looking for some after-school help with her kids (read: chauffeuring). Not an ideal job, but it will be immediate income, it won’t be difficult, and she said she would take me as long as I wanted to do it. So I can keep looking for another job and not feel weird or bad about it. She seemed lovely.
Romeo and I went for a long walk and I put myself to bed. I read up on lean body mass and Macro diets for fun.