Date With Destiny: Day One

The Morning Before:

So, ya, Tony Robbins last night wasn’t necessarily the first or twentieth subject of my dreams I was expecting. But there I was last night, tossing and turning in my Double Tree Hilton queen sized bed…

Authors note: They, Double Tree Hilton, are the ones that give you a cookie when you check-in.  Holy goddamn shit are they good!  She gave me two, because, well you know:

Spac Profile Pic

Anyway, ya, there I was, and there was this big toothed, big-headed “guru” punching me in the chin in an “atta boy” manner:


Which I, in turn, quipped, within the dream:
“Your fist is the size of my face.”

Needless to say, my subconscious was preparing itself.  Needless to say, my conscience had not a godforsaken clue what the hell was going on except why the hell is the air conditioning ALWAYS on in a hotel?

I, of course, did what we all do when we wake, grab my phone…

I got up at my usual start time of about 4:30AM and had an unexpected couple of moments.  The first came from a previous employer during my, less than savory past.

He commented on my blog I posted last night about my state of mind going into today.

If you’re reading this, that was a hell of a thing you said, thank you.

Almost as unexpected as that was a text only a few minutes later from my “pretty much girlfriend.” I thought my early morning anxiety was rubbing off on her, hence the 4:35AM text.  Not so much.  She was going to the gym (love it!) because she had to get her car worked on and had to get her workout in. (Really love it!)

Finally, after trying to convince myself that I’m on vacation, which I technically am, I’m allowed to sleep in.

Not so much. I have this problem with sitting still.

When I finally arose, I made my way over to the desk where my computer sat, waiting.  It shared it’s resting place with my three varieties of powder (Green, white, and yellow.  Please refer to the previous post). Though I am neurotic from time to time with my cleanliness, I am also a complete goddamn mess.  That explains why my desk looked like it was ravaged by Hunter S. Thompson on an all-night supplement binge.  Swear to god, the combination of green, white and neon yellow creates this unique color of drug that only a hippie at an orgy would appreciate.  I have no clue what that means, but I will leave it there because, for some reason, I like it.

Nonetheless, I created more of a mess by getting myself prepped for my morning workout.

It’s 6am and I’m in the gym making a fool of myself trying to get acclimated to my new surroundings.   In walks a woman, she nods and goes to the treadmill.  In walks another woman, she nods and goes to the elliptical.  I too am on an elliptical, because my “iliopsoas” fucking sucks and I can’t run or do jackshit with my left leg other than a fucking elliptical!  Can you tell I’m bitter? Even more than usual?

We all shared something in common though, these wristbands for the event they put on us last night at registration.

Have you ever been to a fitness class, sporting event, or anything where before you do it, no one really talks to each other? Like you’re trying to get mentally, emotionally, and physically prepared for what is about to take place?  For some it’s meditating, for some, it’s getting muckled drunk, and for some, it’s listening to Phish wishing you brought some weed with you on your voyage.

Hippie Keith

But when it’s over, the team wins, the class is finished, or you’re done listening to the 45-minute version of a song; you all are best friends because you just shared a mutual experience.

This is the calm before the storm.  As tomorrow morning, things will be VERY different.  And it’s not just because we all are trying to work off those delicious fucking cookies that I swear were the ones that the Oracle gave to Neo in “The Matrix”.

It’s because we’re all about to share something so profound, that…well…

To be continued…



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