I know. I suck. I haven't updated in a whole DAY.

My excuse is fairly lame, too. In fact, I don't really have one. The Verizon guy was here from about 3 to 5 attempting to figure out why my DSL was way slower than it's supposed to be. The Boy figured this out. Frankly, I didn't much care, as long as I had access other than freaking AOL dial-up crap. The difference between 436k down and 782k down is much smaller than the difference between dial-up and 436k down. But anyway. Miguel comes. Miguel is extremely chatty, which I hate. He is especially chatty when I am trying very hard to take important phone calls on my cell because he is using my line. You should have seen me trying to talk to Miguel, hang onto the Dog, and plug my cell phone charger into the highly uncooperative extension cord all while talking to the PR agent. THAT was something. At least she was understanding.

So the Boy thinks Miguel was an idiot and that he screwed up by disconnecting the jack in the living room which is probably true but hell, I don't know what the fuck is supposed to happen with all these lines (an electrician/wirer/whatever I am NOT) and HE wasn't hanging around all frigging day waiting for the phone guy.

And after that I did some work and then I finished the playstation 2 game I was playing. With some help from the Boy. I liked this game okay because it only required one button to fight. I am no good whatsoever at anything much more complicated than that. In fact, I got the Boy to come in and fight the end-boss thing because it involved all kinds of more complicated maneuvers than just punch-punch-punch the same button. It's the first video game ever that I have finished unless you count tetris which isn't even really finishing, it's just getting bored and quitting.

And I should tell you all. I'm not entirely certain when I will keep going on the Burlington Saga. It's getting dangerously close to talking about things I'm not sure I want to yet. Just a warning. I'll probably come up with other sagas, though.

Now I remember what I was thinking. I am feeling profoundly unhealthy. It may be getting to the point where I actually do something about it. I eat crap. I drink too much beer. I smoke too much. I don't move hardly at all. I looked in the mirror tonight and my skin looks like hell, I don't even know why. Not acne, just all...rough or something. I think it may be partly because of having every iota of moisture sucked out of me last week in the desert, but still. My wisdom teeth are working very hard on rearranging my teeth and causing me gigantic headaches. My sleep schedule is terrible.

Honestly. I feel at least forty. This can't be right. My knees make weird crackly noises when I crouch. My chest hurts. I have carpal AND tennis elbow AND ulnaneuropathy (some problem with my ulna nerve). My back is seriously fucked. I'm all kinds of screwed up. I can only hope that my internal organs are hanging on okay.

The problem is that I am very very bad at correcting any of this. I count it as a *huge* accomplishment that I have managed to attend physical therapy for as long as I have. Especially since it's way uptown. As it is I've had to skip a bunch lately because of the whole lung thing. Physical therapy for my hands, that is. What with the carpal and all. I decided once my hands started going numb abruptly that I should do something about it.

Something, of course, NOT including, say, fixing up where I work so it's not completely stupid. Or working at, for example, a *desk*. Oh, no. I prefer working on the couch on my laptop. On a plank. All scrunched over. Yes, a plank. Literally, an actual plank. Because I like having the tv on in the background. And also I like not working in the same room as the Boy. For this I am sacrificing the nerves in my hands, arms, and back.

There is little in this world I loathe more than exercising. For the sake of exercising, anyway. Those endorphin things? I must be missing them. I exercise a whole bunch and I *never* feel "good". Or hopped-up. Or any at all even remotely positive. I feel irritated and sore and breathless. I also have a huge problem doing anything that I don't find some sort of point in. Yeah, yeah, I could take walks or something. And I've gotten a little better about that, but only to the point of walking home from the train instead of taking the bus. About 20 minutes. Not much. I don't like walking without a destination. We have a rower. I was doing okay on that for a while, then I stopped. I have a stepper thing too. I was doing that last year until my lung collapsed then and then I stopped because aerobic exercise is hard on it and I was afraid that the stepper helped cause it. I have an absurdly expensive gym membership. I have gone a grand total of once. I joined it because it has a pool and I thought I would swim. Man, swimming is HARD! Jeez. Not to mention having to see myself in a bathing suit, ugh. And having to undress in front of a whole bunch of people. Which I did not like one bit. What is up with women just wandering around a locker room all naked? There were chicks buck-fucking-naked standing in front of the communal mirror thing DRYING their HAIR. What, are we in a porn movie all of a sudden? I don't want to see that.

I mean, I like chicks as much as the next person. But it's not like you can politely stare in a locker room. Besides, these were mostly not what one would call necessarily the MOST attractive bodies to be seeing naked. It's like a whole big flashback to being uncomfortably thirteen.

Anyway. Yeah. Unhealthy. Also there's the time question. I don't have much of it, and what I do have? Not really all that interested in spending it exercising or cooking my fat ass healthy food.

I suppose something will have to be done sooner or later. It's just so damn hard. I have such huge problems getting myself anywhere near the motivation on this sort of thing.

Why is it again that I can't just go live in my hole with a computer, books, and my pets? That would be so much easier. I think it had something to do with food. Couldn't somebody supply me with food? So far no one has offered. Feel free, anyone who wants to supply a wanna-be hermit with sustenance.

onehanded