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Things ‘n’ Shit
By briantologist | November 17, 2003
I think fall’s got me in a haze. It’s sort of weirdly warm and drizzly and occasionally foggy here, and that’s about how I’ve been feeling. I can’t stop playing video games. I can’t stop staring into space at nothing in particular. Terrifyingly enough, the only time I really feel like I’m in the swing of things is at work, where at least I know what the hell I’m supposed to be doing.
Despite the fact that I’m not so young, am no Christian, and am very probably not a woman, I signed us up at the YWCA last Tuesday. I then worked out for the first time in several years Wednesday, and spent Thursday through Saturday with unbelievably sore biceps. Like, straightening my wussy arms sent whopping bolts of soreness radiating from my elbows. I’m currently working under the theory that it’s “a good hurt,” as they say. I may go back tonight, as oddly enough I’ve been exactly one pound lighter since visiting the gym. I’ll see if I can knock off another. And then repeat that step 40 times.
Over the course of Thursday and Friday, Jimmy Jam and I tested his theory about the body gradually giving up on hangovers over consecutive evenings of drinking. For example, I got pretty snockered with Mr. Jam and my friendly neighbor Dr. Flash on Thursday. Friday morning I was hurtin’ for certain, but after a second, infinitely more bizarre evening of the drink that night, I awoke to discover myself with almost no hangover at all. Jimmy Jam — who slept on our couch after his ride weaved home without him, enraged for no apparent reason and far too drunk to walk — reported similar results, while Darleece, who hadn’t gotten blotto on Thursday, was firmly beneath the overhang. We discussed this, and then went out to breakfast.
But first, for some reason, we sat together quietly and watched nearly all of “White Oleander.” As yet, I have no plausible explanation for this.
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