Oh my god, I just did the math. I ate around 57,000 calories yesterday. I have an explanation, though. My middle name is Joy and I always thought my name, Robin Joy, sounded like the candy bar and I therefore have a special place in my heart for them.
Oh fuck, I should really stop bullshitting, especially if I'm using this blog as therapy. I'm addicted to both coconut and chocolate. Offer me either and I'm yours.
Anyway...so I guess I'm going for that bike ride. But what I might do, if I live through this exercise in sadism, is ride my bike to the Planetarium after doing the eight miles round trip and just collapse in one of their comfy seats and stargaze. Not just as a reward...if the truth must be known, the Planetarium is about a six block bike ride from West River Drive and there are no hills - it's a flat, easy pleasurable ride down the Ben Franklin Parkway.
The ride home to my house, however, while also six blocks in the other direction, is straight uphill. And I have an old lady bike. Meaning, I could never master hand brakes so I bought myself a vintage bike with foot brakes like the kind you rent on the boardwalk - it's bright turquoise and has a dorky white wicker basket and a little bell instead of a horn because as I've said, I'm totally pathetic...but anyway, it doesn't make riding up hills easy and I usually concede defeat, hop off, and walk it home instead.
Here's a pic of the Planetarium. How lucky am I to live so close. See? This is why I vacillate when I think about leaving Philadelphia.
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