March 20, 2008

Let me tell you how it will be
There’s one for you, nineteen for me
’cause i’m the taxman, yeah, i’m the taxman
Should five per cent appear too small
Be thankful i don’t take it all
’cause i’m the taxman, yeah i’m the taxman
If you drive a car, i’ll tax the street,
If you try to sit, i’ll tax your seat.
If you get too cold i’ll tax the heat,
If you take a walk, i’ll tax your feet.
Don’t ask me what i want it for
If you don’t want to pay some more
’cause i’m the taxman, yeah, i’m the taxman
Now my advice for those who die
Declare the pennies on your eyes
’cause i’m the taxman, yeah, i’m the taxman
And you’re working for no one but me

Five percent, yeah right.

The Beatles had it right though.

I mentioned last night that the wife and girls went and had supper at church with some of our friends. They had a pretty good time. I ended up falling asleep on the couch while they were gone and it was pretty late when I woke back up and started writing more.

The daughter of our friend rides horses. She’s been doing it for a few years now and I guess she really enjoys it. Luckily that’s one of the things my daughter hasn’t asked that she be allowed to do as it is pretty expensive and while I spoil my children that just isn’t something that I want to deal with. Horses, stabling, equestrian clothing, you name it, it’s a huge expense.

I am rather glad that my oldest daughter just likes sports, art and singing. While it can be pretty time-consuming it’s nothing we can’t handle.

I hate it when there is something I want to post about but it takes me a few minutes to finish what I am currently working on and by then I forget what little tidbit of information I want to share.

fuck.

Ah, yes. Finally it comes to me.

I went to the gym today.

For those of you not in the know, I am the king of sloth. I am lucky in that I have an extremely fast metabolism and until my mid-thirties (and a desk job) I stayed at an average weight of 140 pounds. Hell, when the wife and I met I weight 128 and wore a size 28. I couldn’t get a 28 past my fucking knees now. For 28 years I’ve smoked two to three packs a day and until i married I survived off of Dr Pepper and Ding Dongs. I’m still pretty partial to Dr Pepper. I eat all kinds of nasty bad for you crap that is oh so good, one of the reasons I have to take Vytorin for my cholesterol now. I can sit and work on my computer for 20 hours straight.

So I am trying to quit smoking. I am down to anywhere from 1 to 15 smokes a day. Some days are better than others. I do want to quit but I can’t seem to get over the hump where I can just say ‘goddammit I am a non-smoker’ and just not pick one up. As alcoholics will tell you, one is too many and a thousand never enough. How fucking true.

The problem with quitting smoking is that I am currently 175 pounds and I am going to look like the fucking Goodyear blimp and I am already out of shape enough to where my fat little self has to wobble around the fucking restaurant. Nobody likes to have a fat guy cooking for them, all sweating bullets into their food. yum. How appetizing.

So I’m going to try working out at the gym.

The wife’s been doing it quite successfully, but she’s much more hard-headed than i am and once she’s decided on something not a fucking thing in the world is going to stop it from happening, right or wrong. I am much less decisive about stuff.

There’s a gym right behind one of my stores that’s open 24/7 and is only $30 a month. Not too bad. I would check out the one the wife uses, as it would be cheaper to do the family deal, but I am only in that area once or twice a week and it’s not terribly convenient for me. The plain old facts are that if it’s too fucking hard I’m not going to do it. The one behind my store (100 yards away) is also in the town we live in and one the way home from ALL of my stores. I stand a much better chance of actually stopping there. Not to mention the chick with the really nice ass that walked in right before I did…