24.11.12
    What happened? Well, among other things, this server was compromised. The administrator took it down, sealed it off, and re-built it from the ground up (as much as I understand these things) and it's just became available for us to connect to. I'm not even going to try to catch you up. Stuff will spill out as it may.

    The bus depot looked like an airport; all waiting lights and behemoth vehicles sitting docile and omnipotent.
    No, wait—that's a horrible simile. That's like saying this Coke is like Pepsi.

    This Coke is like the effervescent muck thrown up from the river Styx when Willie Wonka, dripping in burning caramel from his own personal punishment in purgatory, disembarked from the now-syrupy boat of Charon to set foot in Hades, whereupon—unrepentant—he set out to enslave the shadows of souls as his own infernal confectionary-creating minions, just as he had done with the Oompa Loompas in another world.

    So, yeah... the bus loop looked like hell.

    I’ve gone back the bus. The rains defeated me. Having my glasses obscured with streaks of water while my tires fling road slurry into my face and down my back and brakes that work nowhere near as well while wet, and is that a car coming?—is not fun. Yes, better equipment could rectify this, and maybe I’ll get there in the future.
    Still, August and September were brilliant; not a single day of precipitation, I biked in five days a week, capping off five months of regular biking. My thighs mutated until they looked like they didn’t belong on my body. My pants got tight. Simultaneously, any extra padding on my upper body melted off. I had dents on my sides where the obliques are.
    It’s now been almost two months since the physical activity came to an abrupt halt. The legs shrank back more or less to normal. I may also have (very suddenly) hit that long-prophesied-but-yet-to-be-encountered age at which you can no longer stuff ridiculous amounts of food in your body without any negative consequences. I went to a banquet at a Chinese restaurant his weekend, which did me in. Given, it was at the end of a week when I felt like I was eating because it was scheduled rather than due to hunger, and I hadn’t really scaled back portion size much. I also had an unintentionally late lunch on the day. Then the dishes started coming and they didn’t stop. There was a break after the chicken when the table, who weren’t the biggest eaters anyway, thought we were being spared the carbs. We were wrong. Both rice and noodles followed. Then the event organizer came by to tell us about the four desserts they had lined up. We hit the discomfort zone. That which was at one point concave became convex.
    The following day I decided to eat when I was hungry instead of by the clock, which meant the first solid food I actually felt like, and even then it was more of an intellectual “these physiological factors usually indicate hunger” rather than a stomach-growling voraciousness, didn’t occur until about 3pm.
    Vastly changing levels of exercise while going through some kind of time-wormhole in aging has me feeling kind of... unsettled. Let’s see if I can balance out sometime soon.

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