If you think your Sunday was relaxing, let me tell you about mine. It was 10% biohacking, 40% mud-sliding, and 50% pure, unadulterated 888 energy. Welcome to the chronicle of why being a "human glitch" is actually the biggest blessing there is.
The Morning of Medical Origami
The day started with peak optimization: glow peptides, DHEA, and my NAD+ injection. But apparently, my brain hadn’t finished its Sunday morning coffee yet. First, I managed to lock my own sharps container before I could even get the needle in. Then, I go to draw the NAD+ and—I kid you not—I bent the flipping needle right against the bottle. Just sitting there looking at a crooked piece of metal like, "Get your shit together." The Lesson: You can’t biohack out the "dumbass" moments. Luckily, round two was a success. That’s the 888 alignment kicking in—we move.
The Sourdough Synchronicity
While I’m over here fighting medical equipment, my girl texts me: "Oh shit, you'll never guess what I did." She burnt the exact same finger making sourdough that she cut the last time she made it. I told her: "Well, at least you know you’re still alive." That’s the beauty of it. A little burn or a bent needle is just a high-def notification that you’re still in the game. If you aren't getting a little banged up, are you even living?
The "Viking" Workout & The Cannon River Trek
Then we loaded up and drove 40 miles south to go hiking along the Cannon River. I’m a total nutball—sliding in the mud, stomping through puddles, and letting Parker (my muddy trooper) drag me along the paths.
My buddy decides to walk out on the ice hanging over the river. I told him straight up: "I’ll watch you, but if you fall in, I am NOT getting in there. I'll call someone while I'm doing my forest jumping jacks." Naturally, I started stripping off layers because I was overheating and started working out in the middle of the snowy woods. Authentic self? Owned. Then came the tragedy. We hit the A&W drive-thru for a pup cup. I asked my buddy, "Do we got everything?" He looks in the bag, sees boxes, and says, "Yep." Ten miles down the highway, he opens his box to find... Chicken Tenders. No burger!! Just the cold, breaded reality of a mistaken order. He didn't even fall asleep on the ride home, That's a first—he was too busy mourning the beef that never was.
The "Buck Hill" Myth & The Parking Lot Labyrinth
On the way back, we’re talking local lore. He swears Buck Hill is the highest point in Dakota County. (Spoiler alert: It’s actually a ridge in Hampton Township, but when you live in Flat-Land, a ski hill feels like Everest). I capped the day at Life Time for some sauna time, a 30-minute spa session. I walked out in such a "Zen Daze" that I completely lost my car. My 40-something brain plus my "everything-is-backwards" dyslexia turned the parking lot into a maze because I didn't park in my "usual" spot. I finally find the car, parked right next to a curb. I’m backing out, the car is beeping like crazy, I’m looking at the camera seeing nothing... and then THUMP. Hit the curb. I seriously can't stop laughing. Just a normal day.
The Sunday Soul-Check
My dyslexia isn't just on paper. It’s in my eyes, my mouth, and my spatial awareness. It twists the world around and makes me hit curbs and bend needles. But you know what? I don’t give up. We are truly blessed to be this weird.
Life is too short to be anything but your authentic, glitchy, mud-stomping self. You have to have hope, you have to have faith, and you have to love every single "malfunctioning" part of who you are. That’s that 888 Energy—turning the obstacles into abundance.
Today’s Wisdom: Be a nutball. Stomp in the mud. Love your weirdness. And for the love of God... physically touch your burger before you leave the drive-thru.
