Frickin Ace

And now that I have been prescribed Cipralex, I can look forward to a massive accumulation of seratonin in my brain. Today has been much better after the horror of the past two days, but being depressed is hard work indeed. I am knackered, and am ready for bed.

At 1644 I texted my pharmacist friend, M, and the text said, “Cipralex 10mg. Any good?”. I did not get a reply. Perhaps she’s depressed that I managed to get Cipralex and she can’t despite working as a pharmacist.

Today at the gym I did back and biceps, and I felt good doing this because most people neglect doing their backs. That’s the secret to a nice V-shaped torso and big shoulders. As expected, the post-5pm crowd is hogging the weights and machines, but seeing a couple of fitties made it worth it.

The exercises I did: wide-grip pull-up, chin up, reverse flys (56kg), single arm rows (50kg), barbell curls (28kg), reverse grip bicep curls (20kg), bicep curls (16kg), and after that I couldn’t be bothered to fight for the weights so I ran for 30 minutes whilst watching the Simpsons.

I must admit that seeing people in sharp suits made me depressed again. I am a fan of crisp white shirts with a soft silk tie and a tailored dark suit—if only I had somewhere to wear it!

Anyway, back to the gym. There’s this guy who was in the lockers and he was without a shirt. I could tell he was very fit because:

1. He was bending over to put on some socks, and if one has fat around the stomach area, you’d see it all bunch up. He had none.
2. His triceps were amazing. They bulged even when putting on a sock.
3. He had the most amazing chest.

Sadly I’m not allowed to take photographs or the gym might throw me out, risking agitating the troublesome condition which I have that is depression.

I’ve been told I need some photos of myself. Here’s my right bicep (apologies for the poor angle and quality—it was taken on my iPhone).