To say I am driving Wifey nuts with worry about me is an understatement. That is not my intention, but that has been the result.
Tag Archives | journal-ish
M.O.T.S.
Most of my days since the last post were spent doing more of the same stuff: snowshoeing, Zwift™-ing, making/eating food, drinking beer, watching football, self-loathing, and cursing my existence. The usual.
Snowshoes & Black Beans
Other than sleeping, the motivation for “doing stuff”1 has been low. Like, old man testies sort of low. Still, I’ve managed to do what I can with the scraps of motivation I have left in me after a month-long illness, a seriously infected cut on my leg, a self-esteem that’s plunging further and further into the nether regions of my stank anus of a psyche, and a winter that shows no sign of releasing its murderous grip from Michigan’s throat.
Coming Back
Sweet Gabriel Jesus, it took me forever to beat that chest cold, but I finally did it!
Out of Horses
With many horses beaten and a few more bishops flogged, I’ve returned with another missal of life calamity.
My ongoing illness—well into its third week—had me returning to the doctor on Wednesday.
Beating Dead Horses
I know, I know, I’ve been beating dead horses, playing on repeat, stuck in a rut, flogging the bishop, and smacking my mackerel for two weeks now. OK, maybe not those last two but all the rest applies; I’ll explain.
This Will Do
I have officially stopped trying to do a post in which I recap my trip to Jamaica. Since our return, I have been sick with the worst chest cold I’ve had in my life, AND I’m on the 2nd round of antibiotics in an attempt to heal my leg that I knocked/cut on a boat ladder in the ocean. In addition to that, Wifey picked up my chest cold, and we have had multiple ice storms that have left mid-Michigan ensconced in ice and frozen snow.
Even Later
I wanted to do a travelogue about the trip Wifey, and I recently took to Jamaica, sort of like I did for our trip to Paradise, Michigan last summer. But the 7-day vacation was such a whirlwind of fun, rum, buns, and sun, that I now find myself playing mental catch up, trying to figure out what I did, what day I did it, and why I did it.
Firsts and Out
Tomorrow I am leaving the United States for the first time in my life. I’m happy about that and plan on spending the next seven days far away from any news concerning the pathetic excuse for a President we have in the White House. The less I know about what goes on here, the happier I’ll be.
It’s long. Real long.
NOTE: Crap Video added below.
It’s long. Real long. Fucking January, man.