April 24, 2012

Well helloooo dere.

I never, never ignore anybody. Why cut oneself off like that? Were there some function to block another person from hearing you while you could still hear them, that would be kinda spy -- but to do that to oneself? I suppose the stock explanation would be to avoid hearing the offensive or otherwise discomforting things from the ignored person. At that I shrug, for we're on the Internet in a modern age of everything gets put out there and really it gets weighed with the ultimate fairness of the population writ large.

As for me, I've been having weird dreams lately. Last night I dreamt I was driving a car (something I almost never, ever do anymore) and I couldn't control it, kept going into the grass on one side of the road or the other, but never quite crashing anywhere, like one of those video games where you can stall but you can't lose. The night before that I dreamt I was refereeing a WWF wrestling match (yeah, I still call it WWF) between the Incredible Hulk (the CGI Edward Norton version) and the old TV Incredible Hulk (Lou Ferigno in green paint). When I woke up, I felt I'd missed an opportunity to throw Hulk Hogan into the mix.

Have I mentioned that I adore jessicaj's shoe nodes? Not a 'shoe person' in that sense, they are just so thorough and informative and well written. We could break out our own encyclopedia of shoe types and foot thingies here; call it Shoecyclopedia. Or Footcyclopedia. Then again, that might lure in the wrong crowd....

In auditing news:

Tem42 is done. Did I mention that Tem is done? Done. Tem, that is.
The Custodian -- on page 26 out of 39.... Hit the two-thirds mark. Custo, we're getting there bud.
wertperch -- on page 1 out of 10
gnarl -- on page 1 out of 6

I am negative for pertussis and influenza.

However, I had a rather occult strep. Didn't show up on the throat culture or quick strep, but two blood tests are positive. ASO and the streptozyme was high. And it's affecting my vocal cords, which no doubt has to do with both me tending to talk too much and a grief reaction. So I am off work for the whole week. And I am not supposed to talk, unless it's to a doctor.

Friends are bringing soup, so the Introverted Thinker Mermaid is getting fed. Me too, as much by kindness as by the food. They gave me that old fashioned massive penicillin shot, and I feel rather weak and rotten. A bit whiny and grumpy too, which is a reassuring convalescent sign.

I am puttering around the house. I am not going out much because I live in a small town and I can't not talk unless I put a sign over my mouth saying "laryngitis". I have actually done that before.

More tests pending. Some weird muscle stuff. We shall see. I think strep and grief would be enough, if it's all the same to the universe. Ok?

Haven't flown in...a long time. Weather sucks out here (Nor'easter just finishing up). Ah well, that's normal in spring, where flying weather is erratic (VFR at least).

Went in for my FAA medical exam. Aaaaaannnnnnd.....nope. Bzzzzt. I'm on blood sugar medication (metformin) which is, apparently, a no-no. I can understand that, you don't want someone in charge of an airplane who might be susceptible to sudden disorientation and blackouts. Of course, I'm not, because I don't have symptomatic diabetes - just elevated blood sugar. My doc won't call it diabetes. So there's hope; the medical examiner told me that everything else looks fine, and she's going to get on the horn with my doc back in New York City and they'll confer. She thinks there's a really good chance I'll get the certificate.

in the meantime, this is yet more motivation to get my ass into better shape. She weighed me at the exam, and even though I was wearing shoes/wallet/etc on her scale (I don't on my doc's) I was heavier than I've ever been. This is an impressively crappy number we're talking, people.

So I'm flailing at scattershot motivational tricks. I tried joining Fitocracy, but that didn't sway me. I tried reading You Are Your Own Gym, which seems handily useful, but...yeah, I didn't do anything. In a desperate appeal to gamification, I just ordered a FitBit tracker. We'll see if being unable to avoid being rated on my slothfulness helps. I bet it doesn't, but...sigh. What the fuck else can I do?