Anyway, part of why I was looking forward to sleep is that I actually hit the gym hard today, for the first time since I started going again. Good news! I'm not really a marshmallow. Turns out, I was just muscularly gunshy. Or, put another way, I actually was as careful "easing" myself back into a workout regimen as would probably be suggested, rather than diving in hardcore headfirst, as my past experience has taught me is best.

You see, the over-arching rule of getting any gain from working out that was drilled into my head, back when I first started? "If it don't hurt, it's not doing you any good."

Kinda counter-intuitive, huh?

Obviously, there's limits to that, you don't want to injure yourself or anything. That's actually where easing myself back into the gym came in -- you learn first the full, proper movement of each exercise, and basically after that you can let your muscles whine and scream for all they want: You're stretched, and you're doing the exercise properly, so really unless something just snaps you're fine, no matter how much the muscles scream bloody murder. And of course, if something just snaps you will stop -- sudden, much more intense pain has a way of breaking your concentration.

Kinda like life that way, huh? You can stay in a sort of normal human misery-stew for quite some time without really thinking about it, but then someone goes and breaks your heart or runs over your dog, and suddenly paying any attention to work takes a lot of effort.

So yeah, tonight I tried to hurt myself in the gym, it did hurt (in the good way) then I went to work, had several dully irritating hours, and hoped to sleep. No dice, charlie.

Hm. Y'know, it's time's like this that having someone to have sex with might be a positive thing. Or at least, it's when such things cross my mind.

Btw, finally did hang out with LBF. Basically realized there's not much chance of our enjoying one another's company any longer until all the past stuff is sorted out, which I don't think either of us is any too eager to do. Basically, I think that's the problem: Doesn't seem like we're relaxed or normal with each other, because we're not. There's a whole universe of things Not Being Mentioned, so really it kind of makes talking kind of pointless. Kind of.

Also? Wow, this one actually surprised me: The Repressed Gay Best Friend dude? Set a wedding date suddenly with his girlfriend.

Okay, but are you ready for the fun part? Here, this is what it's like to live inside the head of someone so inevitably self-centered as myself:

Not only did this not move me for one instant to thinking he might actually really be straight, but in fact my instinct said that I'm the reason these two might end up spending the rest of their lives together. Now maybe it's sad that I think that, but how many more times sadder if it's actually true?

My reasoning, btw, is that his decision to marry this girl he clearly doesn't want is really only an extension of the overall policy that led him to date said girl -- the policy of Pretending To Be Straight. Hm. I wonder if I'm threatening to tread on politically incorrect toes, here ... you know, I've no idea what it's like to be in the closet, so I shouldn't make my assumptions of the motivations or whatever of people who are.

Yeah. Well, whatever. I can admit I don't understand what it's like to be in the closet, much as I can't understand what it's like to be the abused partner in a relationship. I don't mean to point any fingers, I'm just describing things as I see them.

So basically, in my theory this is meant to, once again, put the most mightiest smackdown of a kibosh on anyone (yeah, including me) suspecting/wondering if he might be gay. Once again, because he actually was married for ten years, but you see that's why this I find myself unmoved this time: He wasn't in love with the first one, but he could live with her, so he did. The magic trick loses some of its mystery the second time around.

So, that's about it. I've been working out, if not studying. Right, because I haven't been doing that. Too busy playing my rented copy of Spider-man 2. In between bouts of which, I hung out with LBF once and the artist formerly known as BF once, and reached the conclusion that my choice of distance has been wise in both cases.

In any other news, I'm really wondering about this celibacy thing. Can anyone remind me why I was on about with that, again?