10:42 am
I'm supposed to be working right now, but I have to wait for some log-in credentials to be sent to me via email, and I don't know how long it'll take. I can't work without accessing the new platform, otherwise.
I've recently purchased some work-out equipment. With my schedule as jam-packed as it is now, I don't have the time to go to the gym, nor do I particularly want to go to the gym. I'm waiting for the temps to cool down again so I can start doing walks, as well, but it's Texas. That probably won't be until late October. So I bought a mini-stepper to get me in the habit of working and started doing some yoga in the morning. Or try to, at least. My schedule begins at the very moment I wake up, checking emails, trying to do my skincare. Then get the coffee ready, then the first batch of meds, then I go out to water for at least thirty minutes. My mother is insistent I do the watering for at least an hour, but that's not going to be feasible until fall hits.
I ended up buying some jewelry, too. Nothing too expensive, and I'm afraid the ring I purchased might be a little too big for me. I could have it resized, of course, but who knows when I'd have the time to do that?
Lately, I've been reading up on old urban legends and ghost stories in my home city. The spooky season is almost on us now, and I figured I'd like some reading material so I can retell the stories to my younger cousins, who're all hungry for new creepy stuff. I spent a good chunk of the night reading up on a defunct amusement park my parents used to go to. There are always some gruesome stories about that place, from kids getting electrocuted in the man made lake to the carts on the roller coasters almost flying off the rides. The only officially known incident was the tale of the kid who was asked to retrieve a hat that had fallen on the path of the roller coaster, and having his arm ripped off by a cart flying by. OFFICIALLY, that's what the amusement park owners said. UNOFFICIALLY, my dad had been at the park that day and said there was no hat - the kid was just trying to push a cart to get it back to working, and had been standing there when another cart slammed into him. The roller coaster, it seems, had a history of breaking down at the worst times.
Lastly, I finished Amber Sparks' book And I Do Not Forgive You yesterday, and there was a particular story that had me scribbling down notes for my funeral. I don't think it'll happen anytime soon, but you never know, right? Death is always inevitable, and I've been to my fair share of funerals enough to think "man... this kinda sucks, ngl". I already decided I didn't want a wake, which is a common Mexican tradition, nor did I want to be buried in the family plot. Which one, anyway? My dad would want me to be buried in his family plot (bonus: free food and drinks for life) but my mother would want me to be buried with my grandmother in Mexico (bonus: pre-paid, baby!). I want to be in an urn, a real fancy one that can double as a family heirloom. That's what this family really needs, some heirlooms. We used to have some jewels here and there, and a musket that was allegedly given to my maternal great-great grandfather by Emiliano Zapata. My grandfather's sisters might still have it around, actually. What I really don't want, though, is for my social media to be deactivated. I LIKE having a digital footprint, and for my memory to still be there, haunting the servers like a little phantom. I spent so much time cultivating friendships with people, and I know my relatives are the type to not put much value in online communities. I'd like to at least leave my tumblr and twitter and bearblog up, like mirrors into parts of my life for others to see.