The facts were these

Based on a rigorous schedule of (grocery-store purchased) hair dyeing, my hair is becoming fairly unnaturally red. Not Joanie red, but red nonetheless.

My forearms and hands have become horribly mutilated by the oven at work. The oven at work, combined with my propensity for accidents. I have been accused of cutting, working with cats, or just bruising incomprehensible amounts from derby. None of the burns are painful or oozing at the moment;I consider this progress.

My car also smells yeasty.

I get a break from the derbs for over a month starting. right. now. I am hoping to use this time to recapture old hobbies, habits, and hopes. Since this year has been on giant, disappointing plateau for me as an "athlete," there is always the possibility an old love could usurp this one. I doubt it, but never say never. (I am hoping for writing. But killing four years of writer's block is a hefty thing to ask for). I would also like to volunteer for an organization, but I haven't pinpointed one yet. I always have planned to do more of this, but nothing short of selfishness for time has kept me from it.

Oh, and perhaps I will blog more. But only so long as I can keep it away from being self-pitying and musing. Less angst, more action is the theme I am adopting from this point forward. It's a fine lesson to learn at age 28.