Sunday, February 17 - Day 78

Ya'll almost lost your ol' pal Uncle Greg, the "sickie-crud" feeling I mentioned two weeks ago (see below) turned into an ebola-esque onslaught that still leaves me a bit weak and unamused. Missed a couple of days from work (for the first time in years), and probably should have stayed out for the week, since the whole cycle just started all over again. Yeesh. Well, I'm feeling better, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'm out of the zone.

Hit the Chinese grocery with pal Alex today, he's gotten himself a juicer and he filled a basket with carrots, kale, aloe and other assorted things to mash into an unholy paste. I dig that store, it's got so many foods I've never tried, and I need to bring those into my rotation.

People, this has been the most unhealthy month I believe I've ever experienced, and given that I used to smoke that's saying something. Starting tomorrow (and keep your fingers crossed that my lungs clear enough so that I can return to the gym) I'm committing to a truly clean and exercise heavy period, I do not like this feeling of infirmity!

Sunday, February 3 - Day 64

Sickie-crud feeling still can't shake, very annoying. Had a hard time dragging out of bed, then a hard time deciding if getting out of bed would help or hurt my cause. But I was raised to assume that if you can, you should, so I hopped up around 6:30 and staggered through my Sunday routine of laundry and apartment cleaning. Still feeling semi-punk, I watched some random ESPN pre-Super Bowl hype, and finally decided I needed to hit the gym. Tried doing my legs, but just didn't have the juice, so just hopped on the StairMaster and sweat for forty minutes.

It's half-time of the game, and I'm very happy that Tom Petty started his set with "American Girl", I actually dreamed that last night so good to see ol' Tom and I are in sync. Need to make a call soon on whether to hit the sack for a 4:30 wake-up, or commit to seeing the game through. The Patriots aren't playing like an unbeaten team, and the Giant's are, but counting out Tom Brady is like counting out the sun in LA.

Saturday, February 2 - Day 63

Haven't been feeling tip top lately, but its one of those things that won't make a move, so it just makes me feel like I kinda might be getting a little something denying me the nobility of actually being sick. It's really giving me the foggy head though, and its making sitting and writing tough.

Got my W-2 in the mail, and did a quick calculation on how much this part-time lifestyle is costing me. It's pretty significant, and I worked it down to an hourly number, as a way of motivating myself to push harder on the book. I'm not meeting my writing goals, and that's the first place I need to drop the hammer. Once I get up to meeting those goals, I think I going to have to increase them. I want the first draft of this thing done by April, and its not going to write itself.

On a less didactic note, had a great lunch with neighbors Alex and Jennifer, and tagged along to PetSmart to pick up Gracie, who was being given the business by the Vet. She was terribly happy to see us all, and was given a clean bill of health. I will make the observation once again, that golden retrievers are the happiest animals, period. There was one getting groomed, and among the six or so dogs I could see being primped, he was the only one with an expression like "dude! I'm totally getting brushed, I'm so freakin' happy".

Friday, February 1 - Day 62

So I'm sitting in the theater after "Cloverfield", and I hear this kids voice, "why is it the funny guy always dies, I hate that, like, even in the killing type movies, they always kill the funny guy, I hate it!"

You know what I hate? People who lean weight plates up against a wall at the gym, as opposed to racking them. Why do you ask? Well, for example, I was doing a Smith-machine bench press when I became aware, suddenly of a very weird (and painful) feeling. Which turned out to be a 100 lb plate now leaning against my lower shin, in one way I really lucked out, however the angle worked out it allowed it to "slide" down my leg. If it had any ability to pick up momentum, I can assure you I wouldn't be sitting here typing, I'd be thinking about six months of rehab! Gym people are such pussies, if you can lift it, you can rack it.

I've been in a less than forgiving mood the past week, and really need to shake it, negative energy is just a bad thing to have around.