| So on Friday I was awoken by a text message, "When did Obama win the Nobel Prize?” So after a little investigation, a little internet venting/blogging, and then some frustrated texting I got up and ate breakfast: Frosted Mini-Wheats if you must know. I love them. Well I sort of left out a detail. I went to the bathroom first. My immobility and high water intake means when I wake up in the morning I really have to go. Drinking the night before increases this necessity. Its like Tom Hanks in “A League of their Own” with Gena Davis and Madonna, except constant. It makes me worry, “Can that be healthy”? Then I considered working on my personal statement but didn’t, and before you knew it, the time was 2 o’clock and I had to go to physical therapy session. I’m kind of a pro at this now. Really I could go in there, do all my exercises without being told what to do, and save both the trainer and myself a lot of time. I wish they would let me, perhaps give me a discount, but I guess it doesn’t matter because unlike those 46 million losers out there I pay for my own damn health insurance, and so any bargain would only help my insurance company, and I don’t help BC/BS. So I sat down with Kevin, he was a bit slow to start, not going to lie, it irritated me. I pay 20 bucks for that hour and my insurance pays the other $280 dollars, so I expect my moneys worth. So about 20 minutes late we start the initial diagnosis/assessment, and its good all things considered, still more pessimistic then I would like but in the medical field, hell it seems in all fields, people like to promise you nothing and deliver you something so they can be a hero. Then I get to work on my exercises. Despite the first session always being easiest in terms of work load, its also the one that leaves you feeling the worst. In fact I’m worried I might have hurt myself, will see if I’m still hurting on Tuesday when I go into to see Wade, even though he’s a douche. Good session overall, and Kevin kept me about an extra 30 minutes, so I felt a little bad for being angry about the initial late start. Still, would have been nice to simply start and end on time, I guy gets hungry you know. Anyways, came home, had some food, talked some smack on the interwebs, herbed some noobs, and obsessively hit the refresh button on my email accounts hoping someone, anyone would respond to my incessant spamming of their social network sites. See I always assumed you have to give some in order to get some, pretty sure I heard that in a Spike Lee movie, and I always credited that for my less than noteworthy social networking life. My creed could be summed up as “Those who don’t leave messages don’t get messages”, but it seems that isn’t the case, because believe me, lately I’m a giver. So I sit here, in a house where a dog gets more attention than I do, counting the days (17) until my freedom is returned to me, but at the same time aware that freedom isn’t really the problem. I assumed I had shed myself of certain preconceptions of the world and those around me that were causing me constant disappointment, but apparently I was wrong as I am still dissatisfied with it all. I thought I could get by simply being selective in who I chose to apply what was left of my standards to, but even that had disappointing results. I can’t very well go around telling everyone they are crazy and expect them to conform to my standards can I? I must simply trim them down some more. |
