Tuesday...

Happy birthday, Julio Franco.

He turns 47 today (you read right) and is still a productive hitter. He’s the oldest non-pitcher in major league history, folks.

His diet:

Franco told ESPN's Jeremy Schaap that he eats six to seven meals a day, starting with a normal breakfast of 12 egg whites, raisins or strawberries. He drinks a protein shake at 10 a.m. every morning. He eats a steak or fish for lunch, takes his dinner (mostly protein) to the ballpark, then eats dinner again after the game. At 3 a.m., he wakes up, drinks another protein shake, and goes back to sleep.

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Speaking of working out, my own exercise routine from yesterday has left me sore, but happily so. Seems that all the old-timers took the elliptical machines, so I opted for the treadmill. Interval training is fairly flexible, so it’s nice to have that option.

I did make an obscene gesture at the stair stepper as I walked past though. We’ve got a history.

(Just kidding, Dad)

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Grad school orientation went well last night. I even took the advice of, oh, everyone I know… that is, after I sat through the speeches, grabbed some cookies for the kids and split, I realized that I should probably go back in and shake some hands.

SO… I spent a couple minutes catching up with Dr. Ellison.

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28 new students in the counselor program this year, 26 of whom are female. The other guy is single. Rough life, Roger…

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We are indeed staying in Hurst. After the house in Corsicana fell through Friday, we concluded that now is just NOT the time. Kelli’s taking 13 hours in school, my own six hours commence this week, and heck, her departure from her job will certainly affect our status as borrowers. Maybe we expected too much to go right, but I have to say that I think we’re more relieved than disappointed.

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Almost time to head home for lunch. Happy Tuesday, ya’ll.