Maybe I won’t be sore tomorrow. Maybe the stretches we did after class were just enough, along with the two Advil I took when I got home. I’ve never punched a bag until my knuckles were raw before. They look okay now, seven hours later, even though back home I washed dishes and washed chicken and washed tomatoes. Poor hands.

I still feel like I am fumbling around in my once-weekly martial arts class; after all I have only taken it thrice, along with some supplemental work with Brian. It’s starting to get better though. I look forward to a day when I can complete a maneuver and not be thinking through each little part — what to do with my elbow, my toes, my knee, all while trying to strike at something. It will just take much repetition, and it’s hard sometimes being many years behind everyone else. But the teacher and Brian are incredibly helpful and I would struggle far more without their patience.

Did homework tonight — six pages of manuscript. I have a first draft down, still need to finish the typemarking, which I have never done before. Seems simple enough, especially if I think of it as a cascading style sheet: this style for body text, this style for heads, this style for lists, and so on.

I had one of those moments last night in bed where my mind started wandering off thinking about the future, where I will be someday and if I will ever live the life I want. This is not to say I am unhappy with my life right now, I just don’t want to spend many more years in a small apartment. I dunno. I thought about how in order to get the lifestyle you really want, you just have to make it happen, and not expect it will just eventually happen to you. Especially with stuff like home ownership. Man, that concept is just so much more realistic in almost every other part of the country. Which leads me to wonder how long I will stay here in this city.

Anyway after that conversation, Brian and I discussed Spider-Man. The end.