The Day Before the Day of Reckoning
Tomorrow is the day I wrestle Mike Matsui at Charlotte Catholic to settle our $500 bet. There could be a decent crowd. For some reason Sui didn't expect anyone would be there. How he didn't know people wanted to watch is beyond me. All people have been asking me about is when the match is taking place. It's going down tomorrow in full spandex singlets. I keep going back and forth between complete confidence and worried that I'm missing something about Sui. One mistake I made yesterday was to work my hamstrings. Today they are sore as crap but I've been doing yoga to stretch them, hot water to loosen them and massaging them to work out the lactic acid. The hammies better be ready for tomorrow. Once I get back to my house, if the bus ever gets here, it's laundry, dishes and then bed. I'm making from scratch pancakes for breakfast and pasta with homemade tomato sauce for lunch after which my nerves will be racked until we wrestle.
I hope I don't get stopped by the cops again while I'm walking to my house. I was a little pissed the way the cop talked to me last night. "Take your hands out of pockets. You live around here? What number is your house?" Maybe if that had been the first time it ever happened to me it wouldn't bug me so much but that's the third time in my life that I've been stopped by the cops while walking around my neighborhood. Only three times and I'm irritated. I can't imagine how black people feel being racially profiled. I will admit it would have been hard to explain if they had followed me only to find me breaking into the house where I live.
Walking and typing is hard. I keep going off the sidewalk.
I hope I don't get stopped by the cops again while I'm walking to my house. I was a little pissed the way the cop talked to me last night. "Take your hands out of pockets. You live around here? What number is your house?" Maybe if that had been the first time it ever happened to me it wouldn't bug me so much but that's the third time in my life that I've been stopped by the cops while walking around my neighborhood. Only three times and I'm irritated. I can't imagine how black people feel being racially profiled. I will admit it would have been hard to explain if they had followed me only to find me breaking into the house where I live.
Walking and typing is hard. I keep going off the sidewalk.