I worked out for the first time in 5 weeks yesterday. I haven't skipped workouts for such a duration in, well, forever. This morning, my chest and arms are carpets of pain. I've learned to appreciate this pain, as it usually indicates some kind of gain. Five weeks of atrophying muscles did make me weaker, but oddly, not flabbier. That would be because I've lost a good 10 pounds at the same time. My secret? Gut-wrenching stress to remove hunger. Try it, it works!
In other physical news, I've fallen out of a decades long habit. Manscaping. You know, the trimming (not shaving!) of unruly hair about the body. Sure it's vain, but no more so than a lady who plucks her eyebrows. Anyway, as I said, I've let things slide and now "down there", I have a thicket befitting of Liberace's head. The goods aren't quite entirely obscured, but with perspective, the merchandise appears, shall we say, more inferior. And my tits look like two sand dollars on a dirty barber shop floor. Quite fetching. My armpit hair is macramé -able length, and my happy trail is so bushy it protrudes between my shirt buttons.
At least spouse isn't complaining.