Argh, I’m so behind on stuff… I’m starting to come to terms with it though, and sadly, I’m coming to the conclusion that I’m just getting old. I went to see a doctor yesterday and he didn’t just suggest that at my age everything starts to go downhill, he actually said it.
The problem of the day was my legs, and more specifically the fact that I can’t run for more than a week (with rest periods, not for a whole week at a time) without getting hurt. I have answers now. I am a supinator. I have medial tibial stress syndrome. I have a big Visa bill that I don’t know if my insurance will cover. Them big words ain’t cheap. Luckily, we didn’t get to talking about how my opposable thumbs are opposing me.
On the bright side, I get to try neat gadgets. Orthapedic inserts. Ultrasound (they’re tired of hearing the “but I’m not pregnant” joke). Hell, with a physiotherapist, I’ve got the start of an entourage. I’ve got new exercises and best of all, an excuse to get out of work. “Sorry boss, I’ve got therapy today”. I wish I was going mad instead of lame. With a deteriorating body, you get to watch it all happen. With a deteriorating mind, I figure I could make my own fun for a while, and I probably wouldn’t notice the decline as much. Ah well.
The design-o-thon went ok yesterday, but it was a late night followed by an early morning, so I was a bit foggy. I saw someone I knew as I went to work this morning. We’re both men, so we don’t know how to wave. I nodded, and he did that anti-nod where you raise your chin. Mathematically, did the two greetings cancel each other out? A few minutes later I got on the elevator and pressed the wrong button. Before I could resort to plan B and just get off on that floor like it was my plan all along, I’d hit the proper button. Stupid brain! Did anyone see me? Could I just look around when we got to the wrong floor, looking like I’m searching for the dumbass who pressed the button but didn’t get off? It turned out to be a non-issue: someone else got off there. He didn’t have to press the button. He owes me.
Morning elevator confusion was rampant all around this morning. Someone asked if our car was going up. We were on the ground floor (there is no basement). I didn’t get to chuckle until I’d been cleared of wrongdoing in the button incident. Heh heh heh. Ahhh.
To any vegans in the Grand Theft Auto: did’ja know there’s vegan soft serve in Yorkville? Did’ja? Now you do. I can’t believe I missed the headache. So good.