I'm in bed. The covers are pulled up to the middle of my back. I feel like they ought to be up to my neck, or possibly over my head.
Right now, working out at the gym is intermittently fun. That's because I don't know what I'm doing with most machines. It's also because I usually go when floor traffic is high and my energy isn't. The real issue is that I don't know what I want. Bulging upper body full of muscles? Aerobic bodily goodness via treadmills and mats and the two-and-a-half mile walk from our apartment there and back? A good start. But is that all there is? Of course not. So let's keep dancing.