No, seriously, thanks to Boris' advice I now have a steady routine instead of just a treadmill AND my feet no longer hurt after using it. Not having use of it for over a week definitely sucked, but in the grand scheme of things it's no big deal and if it got me to take things more seriously then it was probably worth it.
Look at me, I'm POLLY motherfucking POSITIVE. A year ago I would have wanted to cut my guts out and set my hair on fire.
Did anyone else notice how weird Laura Bush joking about Desperate Housewives is while the right wing looneytunes rage uncontrollably about the idea that someone might be mentioning
Sometimes my love of irony gets the better of me. I bought a cellphone game called New York Nights that lets you play a person my age in New York City. It's clearly marketed towards teenage girls in Omaha but somehow I couldn't resist the idea of playing myself in crazy teenage girl virtual form. I ate some pizza and went to the health-club to meet Joe, who is the personal assistant of the HOTTEST Hollywood star (What he's doing in New York is never explained, but he has a haircut that was fashionable approximately 20 years ago, and I think he's wearing a mesh shirt.) I got bored and shut it down, $7.00 down the drain. I've just always been a huge fan of real-life irony. It's why when I was 16 I wrote a college student's ethics paper for him in exchange for him buying my underage friends liquor.
I wish the writing were going better, but the exercise is tiring me out and while my energy is starting to return to usable levels it's not there yet. I'm sleeping a lot and my brain is bathing in alternating doses of endorphins and alcohol. I can't afford to lose this time but I trust that eventually my body will adjust to actually having to move on occasion and I will regain the use of my brain for creative purposes.